Saving Her
by Weeball
Summary: This is a story about a girl in an awful situation and the boy who saves her, saving himself in the process. Is 'hope' worth fighting for? AH, E & B. Rated M for language, violence and future lemons.
1. Prologue

**As we all know, I am, unfortunately, no Stephenie Meyer – All Twilight Characters belong to her.

* * *

**

**Prologue:**

"_The miserable have no other medicine  
But only hope."  
~_William Shakespeare_, Measure for Measure_

_.  
_

He's behind the bar serving drinks and I'm dancing seductively. Or at least it feels seductively in the haze from the many shots of Patron I've had.

I'm watching him as I sway my hips, waiting for him to look at me. I know he will. That's the thing about alcohol – it's the best confidence booster.

I watch him for a while before he turns; even the way his body moves as he serves people and makes small talk, causes my heart to beat a little faster. I continue to dance, deciding to look away at the sound of his laughter.

I feel a pang of something... _jealousy? _Even though he is completely unaware of my constant ogling.

_Well at least I hope he is unaware._

I decide that I've had enough of the stupid game I am playing and want my drink, welcoming the promise of increased numbness. As I look up, our eyes lock and I blush under the intensity. The now unsurprising, but completely unique, buzz fills the air and fills me up with a _woosh!_ of endorphins. My skin hums with the feel of his eyes scrutinizing my every move.

The song changes at that exact moment, and I allow my hips to sway again, moving with the rhythm, and lifting my arms into the air - giving him a little show. I look away from him as I do.

I have not had enough alcohol for _that._

I can still feel his gaze on me. I can feel his eyes on my body, on every move I make and it pushes me on, increasing my bravery as I sway toward the floor and lift myself up again, nice and slow.

_Did I mention that inebriation also makes you think you can do anything? And that includes dancing like a pro in an MTV video._

Before I know it the hum is gone and is replaced by arms coming around my waist from behind.

I freeze. The arms do not feel right. They are cold and hard. My entire body stiffens at the feel of them. There is a breath of hot air against my neck before the whispered words reach my ears.

"What a welcome home." He grabs my ass and grinds himself into me, making the bile rise in my throat.

I try to move away from him but his hold tightens on my hips.

"No baby. You'll finish what you start." I can feel his hard on pushing against me and I know what he is saying.

Chills move up my body, making me tremble.

_Stupid, stupid, Bella! How could I let myself think that things were different. How could I let myself forget? _

_Yeah, reality is a bitch and it will bite you in the ass. I should know this!_

"Yes, baby. I know you feel it too."

_Oh god._

I look toward the bar, hoping that he had stopped watching before James came up behind me. I can't see him and I feel relieved and pathetic at the same time.

_What were you doing, Bella?_

I turn to face James, hoping not to see the dilated pupils I know are there.

There's no surprise. He looks down at me - smirk in place, eyes glazed.

It had been awhile and I was a fool to let myself enjoy it. I know that tonight is not going to end well.

I try to pull away again.

Right then Alice comes back from the bar and appears in my field of vision. She is completely unaware of how she is saving me - for the moment

"Hey James," she smiles as she passes me my drink.

"Alice." James nods.

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**A/N: Please let me know what you think and leave me a review :-)**


	2. Chapter 1

**As we all know, I am, unfortunately, no Stephenie Meyer – All Twilight Characters belong to her.

* * *

**

**Chapter 1: EPOV**

"_Footfalls echo in the memory  
Down the passage which we did not take  
Towards the door we never opened"_  
~ T.S. Eliot

.

Brown silk, cascading. Brown eyes, vacant.

She puts her head down to hide the emotion but it's there. I see it in the way she walks, the way her shoulders are slumped, the way her lips move without their usual animation.

I can't hear what she is saying. I can just see her. From the moment she walked in and joined her friends at the corner table, I knew that it was a bad day.

They seemed to be getting closer together.

At first she always came in smiling and laughing. She used to make the room stop. She commanded the attention, without even being aware of it - the moment she walked in, the entire place seemed brighter. Now, though, now it was just my world that stopped. Now it was just me that noticed her entry and it shattered me every time she came in so quietly. So distracted. She seemed small, fragile – vulnerable.

Broken.

It made my heart clench. Along with my fists.

I wanted to kill the fucker who did it.

I had only seen him here once.

She had been sitting exactly where she was now, but the scene was entirely different. She was a rainbow. Laughing, smiling, completely unaware of all the eyes watching and gaining something from just being in the same room as her.

That's until he walked in. It was almost instantaneous. Her entire demeanour changed. I watched her withdraw, leaving just a shell.

It happened within minutes. All it took was his presence and she was gone. I was probably the only one who noticed the complete 360⁰ in her body language, but everyone felt the loss once she left.

A few whispered words was all it took and she was gone. All fake smiles and hurried goodbyes.

I probably should have thought that something bad must have happened – an emergency of sorts. That's what one would normally assume, right? Well, maybe I would have if it weren't for the way his entire stance portrayed one of control, of power and of anger. He was pissed. And from his body language and the way his face changed when he looked at her – I could tell she was the one who had pissed him off.

It made no sense at the time. I mean, what could someone like her ever do to make someone so pissed off?

But it was irrelevant because the next day I saw her, she was wearing altogether too much clothes and make up, and she only removed her sun glasses once she was seated in her dark little corner.

Yeah, I knew what that meant.

Apparently her friends didn't.

Either that, or they choose not to see it. I refuse to believe that they are ignoring it. Not Alice anyway. She would definitely do something if she knew.

Speak of the devil.

"Hey, Ed. Can we get a refill?"

I walk over to her. "Yeah sure. Same as always?"

"Yip." She pops the 'p'.

I make their drinks and try not to think about the vacant eyes that haunt me.

I bring them over to her. "Who's tab you using this time?"

"Jazz." Yeah. What's new.

"Thanks, Ed." She says as she grabs the drinks and makes her way back.

I watch her grab her drink as Alice puts it in front of her. She grabs the straw and the drink doesn't stand a chance. It's finished in seconds.

Her chair gets pushed back as she stands. The grating noise startles her but she shrugs it off and walks toward the bar.

My heart clenches even more. I pretend I am busy. I know it's wrong but I need to hear her voice.

She clears her throat as she stops right where Alice was only moments ago.

I continue to wipe the counters.

"Edward."

There it is. My entire body reacts to my name falling from her lips.

I look up at her. "Finished already?"

"Um... yeah." She sounds hesitant. "Could I get two shots and a refill?"

She doesn't need to elaborate. "Sure."

I take the two shot glasses and place them in front of her before grabbing the bottle of Patron. As soon as I pour one, its already in her hand and down her throat.

One. Two. I pour a third before starting on the refill.

"Bad day?" I ask.

She forces a laugh. "Yeah. You know, work's stressful and all that."

She has no idea how much I know.

"Yeah, and all that." I respond, as I place her drink down in front of her.

"Wanna talk about it?"

I know her answer. "There's not much to say. Same old, same old." She starts digging in the purse she brought with her.

My hand comes out to stop her, but she flinches and once again my heart clenches.

"It's on me," I say.

I'm expecting the fight. It normally gains me a few more minutes, but there isn't one. She just shrugs and a small "thanks" leaves her lips as she turns to walk back to the table.

She sways a little before she sits down again.

I wish I could do something but I know the consequences of interfering and I am too afraid.

xxxxxx

.

It's that time of the day and I hate it. Everything is quiet and that gives me too much time to think. My apartment is empty and not in the physical way, but in the way the makes you feel alone even if you aren't.

I can hear banging coming from the kitchen. Rose is up.

I get up out of bed and put on some pants. I walk into the kitchen to see Rose standing still with the pan in her hands, hovering above the stove.

"Do you need some help?" I say it softly. I don't want to startle her. Her emotions are all over the place.

She drops the pan and turns to face me. She is smiling.

"The baby just kicked!" Her excitement is evident.

She walks to me and grabs my hand, placing it on her over-sized belly. Nothing happens.

"I swear it did." Her face drops slightly but I can see she is concentrating, trying to coax the baby into kicking again.

She sighs. "Murphy's law." I say as I take my hand away and move toward the ready-made coffee.

I pour myself some and take a seat at the dining room table.

"Maybe I'm just imagining it. All the baby books I've read said 4 months is around the time where you start to feel kicking." She turns back to the stove and continues with her plan of making breakfast. It looks like pancakes.

"You want some?" She asks.

I want to laugh. Never in a million years, did I think I'd ever hear Rosalie offering me food. Pregnancy becomes her.

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks."

The door swings open and I jump.

"Jesus, Em. Could you at least try not to scare the shit out of us?"

He laughs, loudly.

"Hey babe." He says to Rose as he leans in to kiss her while simultaneously rubbing her stomach.

"Oh my god! Did you feel that?" Rose exclaims. Her face is filled with pure elation.

Emmett's freezes.

"Was that... the – the baby?" He finally says.

"I'm not crazy!" Rose smiles brightly and looks up at Emmett.

His face is pure adoration as he looks down at her.

I feel like I am intruding.

xxxxxx

.

It's Thursday and I know that I'll get to see her again. I am hoping for a good day.

She doesn't arrive. It makes me nervous but Alice and Angela aren't here either so I tell myself that they have just made other plans.

xxxxxx

.

Friday is slow.

The day crawls past and just before closing, the door swings open and reveals the cascading silk that makes my entire body hum.

It is not a quiet entrance, but it is not a good day.

She sits down across from me and I freeze. Her lip is cut and I can see the beginning of the blue around her left eye.

I have no filter this time.

'What the fuck did he do?" I try not to shout, but I fail.

She flinches and stares at me wild-eyed.

"Wh-what?" She asks. But her eyes tell me she knows what I mean.

"Don't try that with me!"

She forces a laugh again and it makes my blood boil.

"Oh... my... uh, face?" She snorts. "I'm clumsy." She tries to make it sound funny.

Clumsy my fucking arse.

"What? Did you fall on his fist?" I ask. Because I cannot stop myself. We're alone. The pub is empty.

She continues to stare at me. Her eyes are afraid and I can see that she wants to run.

For some reason she doesn't though. She reigns her emotions in and juts her chin out defiantly.

"I don't know what you are trying to insinuate, or who you are talking about, but can we save the 'help the damsel in distress' shit and can you just get me two shots?"

To say I'm shocked is an understatement.

I stare at her for a few moments, I want her to know that I know, before I grab the Patron and put it in front of her. I grab two shot glasses and begin to pour.

She just watches me. I try to think of happy things but the anger in my blood is not just for her and it is impossible to calm down.

Once I'm finished pouring, I fix my eyes on hers as I grab one of the shots and down it.

Her eyes widen slightly. I will not back down although I am not entirely sure what I am trying to accomplish.

She plays along and downs her shot. Our eyes are still locked.

I grab the bottle and pour again. Her eyebrows lift.

Apparently we are both hell bent on not backing down.

After several shots – I lost count – I begin to feel the welcome tingle running through me. My blood is no longer boiling.

The silence is deafening and our eyes are still locked.

A smile tugs at her lips and she flinches as though she had forgotten the cut there.

That is all it takes and she is gone.

I go around the bar and try to follow her but all I see, when I make it out, are tail lights.

Once I get home, I am grateful for the buzz as it makes it easier to fall asleep.

I don't see her the rest of the weekend. I see Alice on Saturday but she doesn't say anything so I tell myself that she is alright.

xxxxxx

.

Monday is my day off and I spend it with Rose. She talks non-stop about the baby. She shows me Saturday's scan and I am happy for them.

I go to my parents for dinner. Esme makes lasagna.

"Are you okay, honey?" She asks while she places the dish in the oven.

Sitting on the counters while she cooks takes me back to when I was 13 and brooding. All our bonding was done in this kitchen.

I sigh. Esme misses nothing.

"I've met someone," I start, but realize too late how it sounds.

"Oh that's great!" She exclaims and the smile I see there, breaks my heart. Esme wants nothing more than for me to find my 'match'. She has no idea.

"It's not like that." I say hurriedly, but the damage is done. She doesn't believe me.

"Mom." I say, trying to get her to understand. "It's someone that comes into the pub sometimes." The smile still remains.

"She has bruises. She tries to hide them. But I can see them."

And her smile is gone.

She walks over to me and places her hand on my shoulder.

"Oh, honey. Of course you see them."

"I don't know what to do about it. I want to help, but I don't want to make it worse, you know?"

I look into her eyes and I see the tears there. "How bad is it?" She asks gently.

"It's gotten worse in the last few weeks. I tried to talk to her." I don't mention the way it happened because I know that it doesn't really constitute trying. "But she won't admit it."

"You know how it is, she's obviously petrified."

"That's the thing, Ma. I don't know what to do. I want to help but I know what that can end up causing!"

"Maybe you should call the authorities." Her voice is only a whisper but the words are so harsh they cut like a knife.

"I can't do that!" I say.

"Not all of these situations end up like they did with your... mom." She is trying to help me. I know she is just trying to make me see that things could be different here, but I can't risk it.

"I can't risk that. I can't risk that happening to her."

"What else is there to do? If you ignore it, it isn't going to help either!"

"I know! I hate it. There is nothing I can do that I know will fix it!" My voice is louder than I mean it to be.

"Maybe you should just keep trying to talk to her. Maybe if she felt she had someone to talk to - someone safe - She'd trust you and then you can call the authorities and make a plan to help her."

As Esme's words sink in, I feel the rightness in them. I can do this. I can help her.

xxxxxx

.

It has been a couple of weeks since my visit with Esme. Her words are only an echo. I no longer believe them.

She hasn't been back to the pub since I called her out. Alice has been in a few times with Jazz, but there is no sign of the silky cascades.

I try to get something out of Alice one night.

"So," I draw it out. "You've been scarce lately." I attempt to sound teasing.

"Yeah, well, there's this new place in Port Angeles that we've been going to." I'm relieved but hurt, even though I shouldn't be.

Alice doesn't notice and she keeps going.

"It's a trendy place and Ang has a thing for this guy that goes there often." She sighs.

"But don't worry, Ed. It's just a phase. This..." She gestures around the room, " is home." She smiles at me, but I am not convinced.

xxxxxx

.

It's Friday and I wake up on the wrong side of the bed. I am frustrated and angry at myself. It has been a long time since I have cared and I don't like the feeling. _Helplessness._ It takes me back to a time where I don't want to be.

I feel things I don't want to feel.

The last few nights have been restless. Filled with nightmares and memories I don't want to have.

Scared eyes. Angry voices. Cracks, grunts, sobbing and screams of pain. They always end with flashes of blue and red lights.

I am tired and snappy. I am grateful that Emmett and Rose have decided to go away for the weekend and left early this morning. I wouldn't have to pretend at least.

I get to the pub around 10 am to open up. It's quiet and I try to enjoy the serenity. I try to just feel in the present and not to dwell on the things gone by.

By 1 'o clock it is time to close up. It has been a quiet night - the end of the month always is - and I am feeling a bit lighter.

That is until the door swings open.

I'm stunned by the sight.

It's obvious that it is a good day... or maybe it has been a good few weeks. The fact that I don't know anymore makes my anger peak.

She doesn't go to the corner table but instead walks directly to the bar and sits down.

I try to ignore her. I try to not react to the way the room suddenly feels full and bright. I am pissed.

"Edward," the usual reaction is stunted by more fury.

I look at her. "What do you want?" I ask. I try to remove the anger from my tone and it just comes out cold.

"Um..." She seems taken aback. "I'll just get something light. Corona?"

"Sure." I say. My tone is clipped but at least I am not yelling like I want to. I want to tell her to get out of my life. I want to tell her to stay away. I want to tell her to please never leave. I hate the way she makes me feel so weak and almost pathetic, but it cannot be helped.

I fetch her beer and walk away to the back to gain some distance. I know I need to calm down and find the place I was at before she walked in.

After a few minutes I return to the bar and begin the task of clearing away all the remnants of the night and start with the ringing up of the till. I try to keep the hum in the air at bay but I find that some things are extremely difficult to ignore.

I look at her and see that she is almost finished her beer. I walk over to find out if she wants another but before I can ask, she opens her mouth and blurts, "So how are you, Edward?"

The speed and hesitance in her words are confusing. Is she uncomfortable because she knows I know? Is she here trying to make me think I was wrong?

My silence spurs her on. "I haven't been here in a while, so, I just, I mean. Yeah."

I answer.

"Good. Same old, same old. You?" My tone remains clipped.

"Um... good. Better." She looks at me through her lashes and I can see the hidden meaning there. Why is she here?

I can't help myself. "So where've you been lately?"

Her smile is soft. "I've just been taking it a little easier."

"Listen," She starts and I can feel her nerves. "I just want to apologize for... you know, the last time."

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**A/N: Let me know what you thought :-)**


	3. Chapter 2

**As we all know, I am, unfortunately, no Stephenie Meyer – All Twilight Characters belong to her. **

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 2: BPOV**

_'Cause I'm just one of those ghosts  
Travelling endlessly  
Don't need no roads  
In fact they follow me_

_And we just go in circles_

_Well Now I'm told that this is life  
And pain is just a simple compromise  
So we can get what we want out of it  
Would someone care to classify,  
Of broken hearts and twisted minds  
So I can find someone to rely on_

_And run  
To them, to them  
Full speed ahead  
Oh you are not useless  
We are just  
_

~Misguided Ghosts, Paramore

.

I lie on my bed staring at the ceiling. My self-hatred is at an all time high. My 'situation' suffocates me. All the walls are closing in and there is nowhere to go.

If my dad were still here, it would change everything. I feel the tears prickling but I don't allow them to fall. Losing it now won't help.

I hear the door open downstairs and all my muscles tense. The footsteps are gentle – a good sign.

The door swings open slowly and a head peaks in. He moves slowly toward the bed.

"I'm so sorry, baby." Whispers, another good sign.

The bed sinks and I feel a warm hand cupping my cheek, coaxing me to look at him.

There's a small gasp and fingers fluttering gently across my lip. I flinch reflexively.

"Oh god. I am so sorry."

I can hear the agony in his voice and I look up at him. "It's okay." I whisper back. It feels safer somehow; if I speak too loud the bubble may burst.

The apologies mean nothing. They never have. My dad always said that "I'm sorry" means "I won't do it again" and if you didn't mean it you shouldn't say it. But he's not here anymore and life is not so simple.

He climbs under the covers and holds me to him. He is trying to make up for it. In his mind, if he is good to me, it makes up for all the bad.

Delusions are bliss.

xxxxxx

.

Its a few days later and all visible marks are almost gone. I can safely leave the house.

After the conversation with Edward, the paranoia has increased. No one can be allowed to see _me_, to notice that _I_ am not the person they think I am. The person I hide behind.

I avoid the pub. Angela makes it easier with her new infatuation with Ben, who she met at a bar in Port Angeles. I can still get my fix at least.

Getting out with Alice and Angela helps me keep up the pretenses. I am normal in their eyes; just a normal girl, with her normal boyfriend, and their normal life. The Patron helps.

Delusions are bliss.

xxxxxx

.

There are no incidents for a few days but I can't stop thinking of my conversation with Edward. I know I need to go back, to face him again and try to get him to drop it. But I am afraid. When _he_ looks at me, he sees _me _and it is terrifying.

Between my few nights with the girls I spend my time working - writing. There are a few deadlines I need to meet and in between I am working on my book - a biography of sorts. When everything eventually falls apart, I want there to be written evidence of the truth. I may not be brave enough to face the facts in life, but in death I want the slate to be clean.

xxxxxx

.

It's Friday, a couple of weeks since I have been into the pub. I consider going but I can't face it, yet. I spend the day walking in the woods surrounding Forks. It is peaceful and it is the only time I feel as though I can be myself – free from the past, from the present, from my life.

As always, the feeling doesn't last and the darkness begins to seep in. I know I need to get back.

Once home, I decide to make a big meal. Cooking is another one of my vices.

xxxxxx

.

By 10 o' clock, I realise that James isn't coming home. No amount of wishful thinking will help.

I gather the courage and make the call.

The ringing stops and I hear the noisy bar, his voice filtering through.

"What do you want?" He slurs.

"I just wanted to find out where you were. I was getting a bit worried." It's best to placate him.

"I'm out. I'll see you later."

The slurring is what makes my entire body tense. I know what will be in store for me later.

I pack away the meal - my appetite lost - and pace around the room.

The indecision makes me crazy.

I look at the time after what feels like hours of pacing and attempting to get my mind off of what lies ahead. It's close to one in the morning.

If I don't go now, I'll have to wait for the next round to subside before I get to talk to him again.

I grab my coat, get in my car and drive to the pub.

The parking lot is empty and my indecision flares.

I park, get out of the car and hurry through the doors before I can change my mind.

I look toward the bar as I enter the room and there he is, wiping the counters. He is getting ready to close up. It must have been a slow night.

I can't understand the effect he has on me. I used to tell myself that it's just the bar itself. It's the perfect setting for my little charade, but here, now, looking at the silent empty space, I realise that even without the charade to hide behind, it feels like _home._

I take a seat at the bar and after ordering a beer he disappears to the back. He is cold and I can't seem to get myself to spit it out.

He comes back into the bar area and begins clearing up. I wait for a while, trying to build up enough courage.

I look at the time again and I know I have to make it quick. Not being at home when James gets there will only make it worse.

After some idle chatter and cold replies, I spit it out.

"Listen. I just want to apologize for... you know, the last time."

He looks at me, dumbfounded. His mouth opens as if to speak but it just closes again.

I continue. "I shouldn't have just left like that. I don't want you to get the wrong idea and I don't want things to be awkward. I'll just be straight. Whatever you thought you saw doesn't matter. I don't want you to get the impression that I need saving. There is nothing to save me from."

_Well there is nothing you can do about it, anyway._

"I enjoy coming here and I don't want there to be bad air between us."

I try to configure my lips up into a smile.

He is still staring at me. His gaze is penetrating and I can feel the determination there. There is no way to sway him. There is no way to make him believe the picture I have tried so hard to paint.

"Bella," He starts, "I don't want to pretend to know what is going on with you, but I do want you to know that I can see through the bullshit."

His cold demeanour softens and he lets out a sigh.

"I'm not going to say anything. I will just take your word for it, but just know that when or if you need to talk, I am here. No judgements."

The sincerity in his eyes feels like a vice grip around my heart.

_If you knew, you wouldn't be saying those words. _

Those words are meant for victims. I am not a victim. He sees his own picture. One I didn't paint, but a picture non-the-less.

I give him a small smile and thank him before walking out as quickly as I came in.

I drive home and am relieved to see that the driveway is empty. I make my way upstairs to get ready for bed. I consider getting into the bottle of Patron in my closet but I know that it'll do no good.

As I get under the covers, I hear a car pulling up and instantly the tears threaten to fall.

I remind myself that I deserve it. I remind myself of my options and take a deep breath.

The front door slams shut and I hear the irregular, heavy footfalls coming up the stairs, getting louder and louder as they approach.

The bedroom door swings open and I can see his ragged form staggering toward me.

"You better not be asleep, baby" He slurs. The bile rises, leaving a trailing burn in my throat.

"Not yet." I whisper, praying for a different outcome.

I open my eyes to see that he his unbuttoning his shirt.

"Good because I'm feeling amped and it's been awhile."

I want to scream at him. I want to tell him that split lips and blue eyes are real mood killers. But I keep my mouth shut. Those words will get me nowhere. They are words from a different Bella, a Bella with a different past and a Bella in a different situation.

He makes it to the bed, shirtless, his belt hanging loose and ready. I sit up.

"I'm not in the mood tonight, baby. I have a splitting headache." I try to sound normal but my body is trembling.

"Why are you shaking?" His voice is laced with anger. "Are you scared of me?"

I don't answer. There is none that will make a difference.

"What? Do you think I am going to force you? Do you think I am a fucking monster like Phil was?"

He grabs my arm and yanks me out of bed. I manage to keep my balance and remain standing in front of him.

His hold tightens as he jerks me to the beat of his words. "Are you going to fucking answer me?" He is screaming now.

If I speak, it'll only be in sobs.

"Why are you fucking crying? Jesus Christ!"

The sting of his hand still surprises me every time.

The force of the blow rocks me and I stumble, hitting the dresser on the way down. "You bitch! I won't be compared to a piece of shit like him. Not after everything I've done for you! And what do you do to repay me? Huh?"

A whimper escapes. I can't stop the sobs.

"God, Bella. You are so fucking pathetic!"

He leaves the room and after a few moments, I can hear him slamming things downstairs.

The metallic taste, mixed with my tears, makes me gag. I make myself get up and wince from the movement but it is not too bad. Nothing is broken.

I retreat to the bathroom and wash my mouth out.

Looking into the mirror, I hate what I see. I stand there for a while, reminding myself of why I am here, how I got here and why I deserve it

.

"_Dad?_

_I approach him slowly. He is watching a game and even though I hate to disturb him I know that I have to tell him. I am so afraid and the tears are streaming down my face._

"_Bells?"_

_He can hear the tremble in my voice. His face shows his discomfort. Charlie was never one for tears._

_I practically run to him, sitting down and curling up into his chest._

"_Bella, honey, it's okay. Speak to me. Whatever it is, you can tell me."_

_I know I have to spit it out. This is the moment I have been moving toward since I arrived two days ago._

"_It's... Phil." I can hardly get the words out through the sobs. "He – he... tried to touch me." The words burn on the way out. _

_Charlie stiffens and I sob harder._

"_Wh-what do you mean, baby? In what way?" I can feel his Adam's Apple bob as he swallows. He is scared of my response. He doesn't want to hear the next words but I can't change the truth._

"_Please don't make me say it. Please, Dad. I-I c-can't." My voice is almost indecipherable. I am surprised he can hear me through the sobs. _

_A few moments pass. I can almost feel the war waging in his mind. He is still stiff, almost vibrating with anger, or whatever emotion comes with the blow I have handed to him._

_His hand slowly begins to rub my back. "Shhh, baby. It's going to be okay. I will not let him hurt you. He will never be able to touch you again." _

_The finality in his voice assures me. Charlie will make it okay. He will protect me._

_.  
_

If only I knew then what I know now. If only I hadn't told him. Things would be so different. Charlie would still be here.

I climb back into bed and hope for the blackness to take me away.

xxxxxx

.

I feel the blackness receding and with it comes an increasingly painful pounding. I don't know whether the pounding is from the hit or the sobs. Crying yourself to sleep is never good for the head.

I open my eyes. It takes a few minutes to focus through my swollen eyes. I already know that I am alone in bed and I am grateful. I can't face the apologies just yet.

I turn onto my back slowly. I stretch and allow the stiffness to make itself known. The light pouring in through the white curtains, makes my eyes close automatically. All I want to do is curl up and let the blackness suck me back in.

I consider taking the pain pills in the draw only inches away. The numb drowsiness they provide would be a welcome reprieve from reality. But instead I get up and make my way to the bathroom.

I look at myself to survey the damage. It's not too bad. It is disguisable. There are the beginnings of bruises around my forearm, from where James had held me, and on my shoulder, from the dresser, but the bruise on my cheek has only begun to form. It would be worse tomorrow.

I get into the shower and let the water wash away the disgust, the self loathing. I have to get myself together. I have to paint the picture.

xxxxxx

.

Once I have gotten dressed and put on enough make-up to hide the bruises, I make my way downstairs. My suspicions are confirmed when I see James' sleeping form stretched out on the couch.

I am still not ready to face him so I grab my keys and phone and slip out the house.

I get into my car and pull out. I don't know where I am going. I drive around aimlessly while my mind is bombarded with memories.

.

_Charlie screaming through the phone in the early hours of the morning. _

_Renee arriving to pick me up from Forks._

_Me screaming for her to "please let me stay."_

_Renee calling me a liar._

_Phil smirking at me through the rear-view mirror on the trip back from the airport._

_The sobs as Phil tells me, "You shouldn't have done that."_

_More phone calls. More screaming._

_Renee threatening Charlie with custody battles._

_Charlie threatening to kill Phil._

_Me wishing it would just stop._

_Time passing without incident. No Phil coming into my room. No more disgusting propositions - a false sense of security._

_James._

_A weekend away. A boy's night. A drunken Phil. An angry Charlie. Shots fired. The cold metal in my hand. _

_Phil crumpling to the ground._

_James._

_The motionless form of my father. _

_The fear. The heartbreak. The voice._

_The heartbroken look on my mother's face. _

_The sirens. The hospitals. _

_James._

_The cover up. The secrets. _

_James._

_And my father's voice ringing in my ears. _

"_He will never be able to touch you again."_

_.  
_

My chest is tight. My heart is clenched and I can't breathe. I gasp for air but I can't seem to fill my lungs. I look around and the surroundings seem vaguely familiar but I have no idea how I got there.

I reach into the glove compartment and grab the bottle of Zoloft.

I take one and continue to try and breathe.

Slowly the vice grip in my chest eases.

I take a few shaky breathes and close my eyes, resting my head back.

Time passes, quickly, slowly. I am not sure.

I don't know how long I've been sitting here, my father's voice still floating all around me and my head pounding a million miles a minute.

There is a gentle knock on the window.

I jump in surprise and look up into a pair of familiar green eyes.

_Edward._

_

* * *

_

**A/N: Please review :-)**


	4. Chapter 3

**As we all know, I am, unfortunately, no Stephenie Meyer – All Twilight Characters belong to her.

* * *

**

**Chapter 3: EPOV**

"_Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark."_

_~ George Iles_

_._

I wake up around nine on Saturday. Em and Rose are away for the weekend visiting Rose's parents and I am glad to have some time to myself.

Bella is the first thing I think about.

Her abrupt disappearance last night was as unsettling as her sudden appearance was. But her effect on me was what was the most disturbing.

Her vacant eyes are not lost on me, her fear is not lost on me.

Try as I might I cannot push away those chocolate orbs that tell a completely different story to the one she tries to portray.

She is not okay.

She is broken; damaged in ways I cannot understand.

I slam my fist down on the mattress as I get out of bed. I can't help the frustration that consumes me whenever I think of what that bastard does to her. I get into the shower and concentrate on our conversation last night. I feel slightly better knowing that I at least got to tell her that I am here for her.

_Progress._

xxxxxx

.

It's 10 o' clock and I am on the way to the pub. We open a little later on Saturday's but I like to get there earlier to get things set up.

When I drive into the parking lot, I notice a red Chevy truck.

My heart beat increases.

_Bella._

I park my Volvo, get out and approach the car slowly. I can see her in there, her head lain back against the headrest. Her breathing slow.

I am scared to frighten her. My knock is soft on the window. She jumps and looks at me. Her face is the picture of confusion and it takes all my strength not to hit something when I see her smudged make-up and the slight discolouration on her left cheek.

She winds down the window.

"Edward?" Her voice shaky and her eyes are wide.

She looks around.

"Open the door, Bella."

She looks back at me and her eyes are no longer confused, they are terrified.

"I-I can't be here."

"No, Bella. Don't run! You don't have to tell me anything. Just come inside and sit down for a while. I'll get you some coffee or something." I speed through the words, scared to let her go.

Her eyes close as she exhales slowly. It feels like time has stopped as I wait for her to say something.

Her eyes open slowly. She looks a lot less terrified.

"O-okay" She whispers her resignation.

She unlocks the door and I open it for her. I sweep my arm out dramatically with a little bow, gesturing for her to step out. She looks up at me and I can see a hint of a smile. The mood lightens infinitesimally. I want to ease the tension - for her to feel comfortable.

I close her car door and follow her slow steps toward the wide wooden doors which mark the entrance into the pub. I dig in my pockets and take out my bunch of keys. I search for the right one before shoving it into the hole and turning.

I push the door open. "Just wait a second," I ask as I run to punch in the alarm code.

As the alarm beeps to signal my success at disarming it, she walks in and looks around. The room is dark with all the lights off and curtains drawn.

"Just take a seat and I'll get you something to drink. Coffee, Tea, hot chocolate? Hell, I'll whip up a milkshake if that's what you feel like." I ask, hoping that she'll want something non-alcoholic.

"Um, actually, a milkshake sounds really, really good." She says, the hint of a smile growing wider.

"Sure." I grin at her. "I am actually quite the milk shake extraordinaire. What's your flavour?"

She tries to wipe her eyes as she answers, "Extraordinaire? Really? I'll have to be the judge of that. Um... let's go for something universal so I can really test your skills – Chocolate?"

"Oh you'll see. Chocolate it is." I hand her a few serviettes so she can wipe her tear streaked face, and walk through the door on the left of the bar and into the kitchen.

I take out all the things I need, including my secret stash of Belgian chocolate. There is nothing better than chocolate milk made with _real_ chocolate.

For the first time since I noticed her 'situation', I feel hopeful.

I get some water boiling while I grate the chocolate into a bowl. Once the water starts to bubble uncontrollably, I place the bowl with the gratings on top of it to melt. I scoop some vanilla ice-cream into the blender and add some milk.

I add the melted chocolate to the mixture and turn the switch, watching it swirl into perfection.

I pour the contents into two glasses because there is no way I am missing out on my own chocolate milkshake.

I grab the whipped cream out the fridge and add it to the top.

_Now for the final touch_. I grab the grater and the chocolate and add a few delicate wisps to Bella's Milkshake. _Perfect._

Just as I am about to grate some for my own, I hear a throat clear behind me. I look up and see Bella standing in the doorway. She looks a little nervous but her smile is still there.

"Is this going to take a while?" She teases.

My answering smile is huge. "You can't rush art, Bella."

She giggles and it is music to my ears. I am not usually one for the melodramatics or the sappy shit, but really, Bella's laugh, knowing that I am the one that caused it, warms my heart and makes my chest swell with hope.

xxxxxx

.

We sit at the bar and quietly drink our milkshakes. There are so many questions I want to ask.

Why are you with him? How did you get into this situation? What happened last night? Why did I find you sitting in your car outside the bar at 10 o' clock on a Saturday morning?

But I don't ask. I keep the mood light and just enjoy the moment with her. I will not push her because if I do, I know that she will just run. The act of approaching a wild animal forms in my mind – quietly with no sudden movements. Bella is the wild animal, scared and confused, and at any point, anything I say can send her running for the hills.

Eventually the bar is filled with the sounds of Bella slurping the last of her milkshake and I look at her expectantly.

"Hmmm. Okay, Edward. I have to give it to you. That was one of the best milkshakes I have ever had!" She says, as she smiles shyly at me through her lashes.

Her smile and my name rolling off her lips are a deadly combination.

"Anytime, Bella." I try to put as much meaning into my words as possible. _I am here for you, Bella. Whenever you need me._

I grab our glasses and take them to the back. When I re-emerge I move straight to the windows to let some light in. I need to get ready to open up the bar.

Before I finish with the first set, I hear her chair scraping and I turn to look at her.

"Well, I better be going. I'm sure there are some paying customers dying for one of those milkshakes, or a drink or whatever people come in for on a Saturday morning." She smiles, but it's not the one from earlier. It's the one from the last time she was here.

"You don't have to go." I say, even though I know that it's pointless.

"Thanks for the milkshake, Edward." She says as she walks to the door. I want to beg her to stay/ I want to beg her to talk to me. But I know better – _One step at a time, Edward._

xxxxxx

.

I spend the rest of the day trying not to think of her. I fail miserably. My mind is consumed with her. All I see are her chocolate eyes, her silky hair, her tear streaked face and all I have are thoughts on how I can get her to talk to me and what I can do to somehow fix it.

I wonder how she got into this situation. And those thoughts take me back in time. Back to a time where I was just as confused and helpless.

.

_She's in the bathroom staring at the mirror. Her face is tear streaked and her eyes are swollen from sobbing in the shower._

_She doesn't know that I can hear her, that I always hear her._

_Her lip is cut. Her eye is blue and I know that she must be sporting a few broken ribs._

_She brings her hand to her lip and feels the wound there. Another sob rips out and she steps back and sits down on the edge of the bath tub._

_I open the door wider and take a tentative step inside, making my presence known._

_She looks at me. We are almost eye level and the look in her eyes makes my heart clench painfully._

"_Oh baby," her voice is shaky with emotion or the pain, I'm not sure which._

"_Mommy?" I ask. My voice is only a whisper and my own tears are building._

"_Shhh, baby. I'm fine. Mommy is fine."_

"_I hate him." I state once she gets up and pulls me toward her, wincing as she bends._

"_No, baby. It's not his fault. Your dad just gets angry sometimes. Mommy needs to be more careful."_

_Even at such a young age her words confused me._

_._

"Edward!"

I look to the voice and see Alice at the bar, her eyes questioning.

I realise she must have been trying to talk to me while I was stuck in my head.

"Sorry, Alice." I start as I walk toward her. "What can I get you?"

"Are you okay?" She asks.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I was just thinking." I smile at her to punctuate my words.

She smiles in response. "Okay. Can I get the usual for me and some water for Bella?"

I look toward their usual spot as discreetly as possible. Bella is sitting, well swaying, in her seat. Her head on her arms.

I look back at Alice and lift my eyebrow in question.

She gives a little giggle in response. "I think Bella has had enough."

I begin to wonder how long I had been reveling in the past.

"Have you guys been here for a while?" I ask, while I get her order ready.

"No, we just got here."

I look back to Bella, this time less discreetly.

"Oh, she was out before this. She obviously had a bit too much fun." Another giggle.

My stomach turns while I place their drinks down in front of her.

"Just put it on my tab," she says, before grabbing the drinks and walking back to their table.

I watch Bella look up as Alice sits down across from her. She grabs the water and downs it, looking disappointed. Alice doesn't seem to notice as she looks to the door, where Jasper has appeared.

He walks over to their table and gives her a kiss before coming over to the bar and I turn to serve another customer before Jasper can catch me staring.

xxxxxx

.

The night goes on without incident. I keep an eye on Bella but it is a fairly busy night so distraction is easy to find.

By midnight Bella appears sober and is getting ready to leave with Jasper and Alice. They come to the bar to say their goodbyes, but Bella remains at the table, looking through her purse, stalling.

"Well, we're calling it a night," Jasper says.

"Enjoy the rest of it, guys. Get home safe" I smile at them but my mind is with Bella, in the corner with the bruises she doesn't want anyone to see.

I wonder whether everyone else is oblivious. Besides the obvious, why does it seem that I am the only one who sees her?

"Is Bella alright?" I ask as I make a point of looking at her in the corner.

She is watching us now.

"Yip. She's fine. But don't worry, were driving her home. " She smiles at me as she turns toward the door.

Bella gets up to meet her there, while Jasper gives me a knowing look before turning to join them.

_Yeah, maybe they are not as oblivious as they seem._

I spend the rest of the night wondering what had happened between the Bella from this morning and the Bella from tonight.

xxxxxx

.

Sunday is slow but it's fine because I am getting off early to go fetch Rose and Em from the airport.

I am exhausted. The night was filled with nightmares, or memories. I can't tell anymore. They all end the same though – blaring sirens, red and blue lights - all seen through the teary eyes of the boy I once was.

Garret arrives 30 minutes before I have to leave.

"Hey, man." He says.

"Hey." We shake hands. "How was the holiday?"

"It was fantastic." His smile is genuine.

"Can't wait til we're there permanently."

"I bet."

"Yeah, the boys are so excited. It was a mission to get them to leave, but it's not long now."

I chuckle. Garrett and Kate have 3 sons, 2 of which have ADHD and are complete little terrorists.

"Did you find a place?"

"Yip." He pops the 'p'. "Kate found an awesome spot. As soon as we saw it we just knew it was the one."

"That's great, man. So you all set?"

"Yeah, we've got a month to sort everything out here and then that's that."

"Well you've been planning long enough." Garrett has been dreaming to open up his own little restaurant in LA the entire time I've known him.

He laughs. "You can say that again!" He takes a look around the bar. "Yeah, one more month and she's all yours." He says as he pats the bar counter.

_Mine._

I look around, letting it sink in. I want to feel the happiness I have been working toward but I just can't put the sight of Bella swaying in her seat, head down, out of my mind. I take a moment to try and replace it with the image of Bella standing in the bar's kitchen doorway, smiling at me.

_One step at a time, Edward._

_One step at a time.

* * *

_

**A/N: I love reviews like a fat boy loves cake ;)**


	5. Chapter 4

**As we all know, I am, unfortunately, no Stephenie Meyer – All Twilight Characters belong to her.

* * *

**

**Chapter 4: BPOV**

"_Alone, all alone  
Nobody, but nobody  
Can make it out here alone."_

_~excerpt from _Alone, _Maya Angelou_

_._

_What am I doing?_

"Anytime, Bella." There is so much meaning in his words.

_I don't deserve those words._

The little swell of happiness that had found its way into my chest disappears at the thought of what Edward is saying. He isn't talking about a milkshake.

But he doesn't know the truth and even though, for some inexplicable reason, he brings out a part of me I thought died 5 years ago, it doesn't change the facts; I'm not the same person I was back then. I don't get to have a milkshake with a beautiful boy on a Saturday morning. I don't get to feel the way I feel when I am with him. I don't get to make jokes and tease and be playful. I shouldn't get to do any of those things because I took those things away from my family - from my dad, from my mom and from Phil.

And not only was it my fault, but I hid from the truth. I ran away from reality.

I ran until it caught up with me - in the form of a blond-haired, blue-eyed nightmare.

James.

He is my reality; I owe him and I deserve every bit of pain he dishes out.

I definitely don't deserve Edward's concern.

I leave the bar knowing that my excuses don't cut it. I get in my car and drive home. I try to put it out of my mind. I try to snap back to reality and push the feelings Edward brings out, back to where ever they came from.

As I get closer to home I can see that James is there and I can't face him yet. I drive past the house and straight on to La Push.

My attempts to push Edward out, back fire in the worst possible way. All I can think about as I drive, is the way Edward looks at me. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. The way his stunningly green eyes see right through me. The way he tries not to make it obvious that he can see the bruises. The way I feel almost _normal_ when I am around him. The way my heart beats fiercely just from a single word, look, suggestion.

I keep driving with my mind on auto-pilot.

I reach First Beach The 15 minute drive feels longer, and shorter, than before. I used to come here often when I was in Forks. It was a place I could find peace - even after my father died. I brought him here. We threw his ashes here and when I moved back to Forks I'd come back often to talk to him, to apologize, to feel closer to him.

I hadn't been back since James came back into my life - It's too difficult when I know that I am the reason he is gone in the first place. I should never have tried to forget that fact.

I open my car door and step out. I walk slowly down toward the ocean, leaving my shoes by my car. I pull my hoodie around my head, as I feel the wind pick up. It's a standard day in Forks; the sky is grey and the rain is pattering gently all around me.

I walk to the edge of the water and let the waves lap over my bare feet.

My eyes sting with tears and I just stand there, allowing the water to reach me and the rain drops to soak in.

This is the closest I can get to my father. I remember the countless trips to Forks. I'd come back every holiday to visit him. We'd go fishing with Billy, Harry and their kids. We'd leave early in the morning and stay out until late afternoon. The adults would fish while Leah, Jacob and I would watch Leah's younger brother, Seth; we'd build sand castles and search the rocks for 'treasures'.

Life was so simple.

I sit down in the sand as the tears begin to fall. I don't stop them.

xxxxxx

.

I don't know how long I have been sitting here but the tide has come in and the waves are no longer just lapping around my feet. The water is surrounding me.

I decide to get up and make my way home. It is time to face James.

I stand up and say a silent goodbye to Charlie before turning around to walk back to my car.

Before I reach the parking lot, however, I notice a familiar car - a red Volkswagen is parked close to my truck. I stop dead as I see the familiar, large figure stepping out of the car. My heart clenches in recognition.

Jacob.

He turns and looks at me.

Nothing.

No wave. No smile. No acknowledgment.

And once again, I deserve it.

I continue the walk to my car with my head down. I don't chance a look at him. Up close, I am sure I will see the glaring eyes that will break my already shattered heart.

I start the car but I don't drive away. Instead, I find myself back to a time when I was going to move forward, when I was going to let go of the past.

.

_Warm arms gather me to his chest._

"_It's okay, Bells. Shhh. It's going to be okay."_

_I had just moved back to Forks. I had decided to move back to the place where I was the happiest. A place where I had roots, friends, family. A place where Charlie Swan was remembered; I never wanted to forget him._

_Jacob was my rock. We had kept in touch over the years and after the memorial on First Beach, I moved to Seattle to study but we never lost touch._

_Once I was finished my English degree, I moved back here. It was hard at first. But Jacob was there._

_He was always there._

_I look up at him. His eyes are filled with concern and love and before I know what I am doing my lips meet his. I can feel the love, the years of friendship and the trust that feels like second nature._

_We fall into an easy relationship. One that is comfortable and provides the first form of happiness since the day that my life fell apart._

_But no matter how much he loves me, I cannot give him everything he deserves because there is so much he doesn't know. There is so much he will never know._

_There is only one person who knows everything and that person is the same reason every bit of happiness I had built for myself, came tumbling down._

_James._

_._

I come back to the present and when I look back, Jacob is gone. The car is there but he is nowhere to be seen.

My heart feels like it has been driven over by a one ton truck - broken beyond repair.

And it is just another reminder of all the reasons why I deserve this.

xxxxxx

.

I arrive home just after one in the afternoon and James is still there.

I gather my courage and step inside. The house is quiet except for the sound of the shower upstairs. I take off my soaking wet hoodie and make my way to the bedroom.

I want to get it over with.

The water shuts off when I am half way up the stairs and when I step into the room I see James standing with the towel around his hips.

"Hey, baby." His voice is soft, apologetic.

I give him a soft smile. He doesn't notice how hard it is for me to pretend. He walks over to me and looks over the damage. His hand flitters across my cheek.

"God, Bella. I hate it when I hurt you. You know that, right?"

"It looks worse than it is." It's the only response I have.

I look straight into his eyes and I can no longer see the boy I once knew, the boy I once loved. All I see is the monster.

All I see is what I deserve.

xxxxxx

.

James leaves for work. They are busy with a big development in Port Angeles and he has to work weekends to meet his deadline.

Once the house is empty, I take a hot bath. The warmth doesn't touch me.

xxxxxx

.

I get out after a while and feeling numb, I get dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain T. I grab my old copy of_ Wuthering Heights,_ and go downstairs to read. A trusty escape.

I cuddle up on the couch and open the book, and let myself get lost in the pages.

.

_The phone rings, waking me up._

_I look over at Jacob's sleeping form and hurry to answer before he wakes up from the noise._

"_Hello,"_

"_Bella?"_

"_Um, yes?"_

"_Bella, it's James." My body immediately tenses._

"_James. How are you?" I try to keep the tremble from my voice._

"_I need your help." His words slice through me. _

_There is only so far you can run when you are running from the truth._

"_Anything, James. You know that."_

_There's a pause in the line and I can hear muffled voices._

"_James?" I ask to get his attention._

"_I need some money and a place to stay." _

"_How much do you need?" I'm afraid of the answer. The last time I heard from James he had already begun on his downward spiral._

"_$100,000." _

_My heart stops._

"_James, I-I don't have that kind of money." _

"_Don't lie to me, Bella. You have all the money your dad left you." And it's the beginning of the end._

"_But I – "_

"_Bella! I need the money!" He says, his voice raised. He sounds panicked._

"_Okay. What do you need me to do?" I ask. I haven't touched the money my dad left me for anything except my studies. _

"_Listen, don't do anything. I will be there on Sunday and then I'll fill you in."_

_And before I can say anything else the line goes dead._

_I fall to the floor, trembling in fear, knowing that the past has finally caught up with me._

_._

I wake up with a start, sending my book tumbling to the floor.

My heart feels as though it is going to pound right through the flesh. I take a few deep breathes. I would trade anything to go back to a time where nightmares were made up of monsters in the dark, instead of the reality of memories.

I pick up my book and put it down on the coffee table, before getting up. I need a drink.

I go upstairs and grab the bottle of Patron in my cupboard.

One tequila. Two tequila. Three tequila. Floor.

But I am not so lucky.

However many shots later, all I can feel is the welcome numbness beginning to take effect. I soak it in, welcome it, revel in it. It is all I have. It's the only thing I can trust.

xxxxxx

.

Half a bottle later and I am feeling completely numb. My brain can no longer dwell on the past, or the present for that matter. I lay back against the couch and savour the feeling, smiling to myself.

Not before long I find that I am dancing to "_I Got a Feeling_". It takes a while for me to register that the sound is coming from my cell phone on the dining room table.

Alice.

I make my way to the table, trying not to fall or bump into anything on the way, but by the time I get there, it stops.

_The story of my life. _

I laugh at myself and take my phone back to the couch.

I have another swig of Patron straight from the bottle and settle into my previous position.

The music starts up again and this time I don't miss it.

"Hello my sexy little pixie friend!" I answer.

"Bella!" Her singsong voice makes me smile.

"How can I be of service?"

"Bella, have you been drinking already?"

I giggle. "Yip. I am having a party here. What gave me away?" I ask.

"That would be the slurring." She laughs as she says it.

I burst into giggles. "Yeah, that would do it!"

"So what party are you at and why did I not receive an invite?" I can practically hear her sticking her bottom lip out in protest.

"Oh, you know, it was a spontaneous thing! What is my pixie friend getting up to this wonderful Saturday evening?" Distraction is practically policy when it comes to Alice. I am proud that I can still think clearly enough to remember my tactics.

I laugh at the ridiculousness of my drunken thoughts.

"Well I was just going to meet Jazz at the pub, wanna join?"

"Sure. Sounds fun. Will you pick me up on the way?"

"Um yeah, sure. Where are you?"

"Oh, you can just fetch me from my place."

"Bella, you shouldn't drive like this. I'll just get you from wherever you are and I'll pick up your truck with Jazz later."

"No, no, don't worry, Al. I'm not driving. I'll be home before you get here! What time do you wanna fetch me?"

"Oh, okay." Her voice shows her hesitance. "I was thinking... in about 30 mins?"

"Wow. So soon? Okay, an early night it is. I'll be at home."

"Bella, it's already past eight."

"Oh, huh. I must have lost track of time. I'll see you in a bit then, Al."

"Okay, drive safe, Bella!"

Feeling very impressed with my distraction techniques, I make my way upstairs to get changed. I trip once on the way up and laugh at my clumsiness.

I go into the en-suite and look in the mirror, ready to begin the process of hiding any visible marks. I put some of the really good foundation I bought a few weeks ago on, taking my time so I don't mess it up in my drunken haze.

xxxxxx

.

As I put the final touches on my face, the door bell rings. I quickly put everything away, trying hard to avoid knocking things over.

I grab a sweater on the way out my bedroom. The bruises on my arm are a nasty purplish blue that definitely need to be hidden. I concentrate as I walk down the stairs and put on the sweater, simultaneously. I reach the bottom without incident and smile.

I open the door with the smile still on my face.

"You look great!" Alice says as she hugs me.

"Thanks." I don't take her seriously. I look plain but I suppose the make-up makes it seem more believable that I was out before.

The car drive is a little tense. I can tell that Alice is desperate to know where I was, but I don't want to give her any opportunity to pry because I am a terrible liar. Distraction is my only tool.

"So was the shop busy today? Any new designs I should know about?"

Talking clothes is my best option.

"Yeah. It was a good day. Mrs Phillips came in for her fitting which went brilliantly. She loves the tweaks I made on the design..."

_Success._

I nod and smile but my mind can't focus long enough to completely take in everything she is saying. Thank God it's about clothes; Alice doesn't expect me to know much.

We arrive at the pub and the parking lot is crowded. I'm glad that I hadn't thought about the fact that Edward would be there. I hadn't really thought at all.

It feels as though this morning was days ago and I suddenly feel anxious to see him. What if he brings it up? How will I explain that to Alice or Jasper?

Alice gets out the car and frowns at me when she realizes that I haven't moved. I quickly remove my seat belt and open the door to get out.

I stumble a little, but manage to stay on my feet. Alice giggles and puts her arm around my waist as we walk into the pub.

The interior looks exactly as it always has. Warm, inviting and filled with the buzz of a good time. Everyone is talking animatedly and the noise is levelled out by the old school music that is typical for a Saturday evening.

Alice steers me toward our usual table in the corner. I try to catch a glimpse of Edward but he is engrossed in whatever he is doing. Alice lets me go as we reach the table and I sway a little, realising just how much I needed her support. I pull my chair out and flop down into my seat. The room is spinning and I suddenly regret agreeing to come out.

I hear Alice's chair pull back, as I rest my head on my arms in an attempt to stop the spinning.

A few minutes later I hear Alice clear her throat loudly and I look up. She is holding a drink out to me. I thank my lucky stars, knowing that with a few more drinks the spinning will move onto the sweet oblivion of pure, unadulterated drunkenness. I take the glass from her, bring it to my lips – concentrating as I do so – and down the entire thing. It takes a while for me to register the taste.

I grimace. _Water?_

I look at Alice and she quirks her brow, asking me to argue. I sigh, knowing that she is just being a friend.

I give her a small smile. "Sorry, Al." I slur. "You know how it is with Tequila – you only realize you've had too much once it's too late."

I stretch my smile wider as I concentrate on pushing down the nausea and ignoring the spinning.

Alice giggles. "It's no problem, Bella. It happens to the best of us." She reaches out and grabs my hand. "Where's James tonight?"

My stomach churns at the name. "Oh, he's working. He's got a big project in Port Angeles."

Alice's eyes widen. "You should have told me before. We could have planned a sleepover!"

I roll my eyes. _Only Alice._ I can just imagine all the hair braiding and nail painting she'd make me participate in.

"Maybe next time." I smile, hiding my grimace. Not only at the thought of spending the night living out Alice's 13 year old girl sleepover fantasies, but at the fact that I would never really be able to be a part of it. You can't really have a sleep over without ever removing your make-up or sweater.

"Hmmm. Definitely." She smiles widely.

Just then Jasper makes his way to the table and leans down to kiss Alice hello. I look away. Their intimate moments make me feel utterly pitiful and I avoid it at all costs.

"Hello, Bella,'' Jasper's southern drawl has such a calming tone that I can't help but smile genuinely at him.

"Hi, Jazz."

"Are you ladies having a good night?" His eyes twinkle at Alice's answering smile and no matter how pitiful I feel, I am so happy for the two of them and the special connection they have found within each other.

"Always," Alice and I say in unison, which causes us to giggle. Sometimes it is easy to be _normal_ when I am around them.

"You two are like two peas in a pod." He shakes his head but his smile is sweet and happy.

xxxxxx

.

The night goes on without incident and even though I never lose the deep rooted depression that I have become accustomed to, I find that there are still real smiles and laughter in between the ones I have to force to keep the picture in place.

The more water I drink, the more the nausea recedes and by the time we decide to leave I am back to being sober and hating it. My head is throbbing from my early hangover and all I want to do is get home, take some pills and sleep it all away.

_Talk about pitiful._

The entire evening I avoid Edward's gaze. He must have known how out of it I was when we arrived and I didn't want to see his reaction - whatever that reaction would have been. I should never have come to the pub in the first place. Especially not after this morning.

But even though I had avoided his gaze, I had always felt it; the unmistakeable hum, that I have always pretended not to feel. Even before things fell apart, when I was reasonably happy, there was always something there; a connection that was always felt, but never acknowledged – even to myself.

While Jasper and Alice say goodbye to Edward, I stay in my seat and pretend to search my bag for my cell or lip balm, anything that will give me an excuse to take my time. I am nervous that Edward might mention something about earlier, but I am too chicken-shit to try and prevent it.

I look up when I hear my name mumbled by Edward. My heart race picks up but I immediately relax when I see Alice smiling and walking toward the door.

I get up and meet her there. She puts her arm through mine.

"Edward is such a worry wart – like I would let my friend drive home drunk." She clicks her tongue.

I can't help the flutter that occurs when I realize that Edward was worried about me but I can ignore it. I laugh at her indignation as Jasper walks from behind us and opens Alice's car door for her.

I walk over to the passenger side and slip in while they say their goodbyes.

The short drive is fairly quiet as I fight to keep my eyes open. The car comes to a stop in my empty driveway and Alice's soft voice stops me as I begin to open my door.

"Bella?"

"Hmmm." I turn to look at her. Her eyes are shining with concern.

"Are you alright?"

I smile. "Sure. Why do you ask?" I am afraid of the answer.

"You just seem different. Sad, maybe? I'm not sure." Her voice drops a bit as she continues. "Is everything going okay with James?"

I battle to hide the panic I feel rising up inside me as my stomach clenches.

"Yes. Of course. Everything is great. You know how I feel about him."

"Yeah, yeah. The one that got away and all of that." She forces a small smile. "It's just that you seem so out of it." Her smile fades and I have no idea what to say.

"I just want you to know that you can talk to me. No matter what." She continues and I all I want to do is disappear. The urge to spill my guts out to her is overwhelming but I know that I can't. The time for truth has passed. I missed the opportunity and I am now paying the price.

"I know that, Alice. I do. Really. I am perfectly fine. Happy." I give her my best smile as I open the car door. "Now go get your butt home to that sexy man of yours!"

She giggles. "He really is, isn't he?"

I smile at the faraway look she gets whenever I mention Jasper.

"That he is!" I force the appropriate laugh.

"Okay. I'm going, I'm going. Bye, Bella." She sings, just before I shut the door.

She only pulls away once I open the front door.

I shut it and lean back against it, sliding down to the floor. I take a few deep breaths but feel myself slipping. The sobs overwhelm me.

I have never felt so confused, so desperate and ultimately completely and utterly _alone_.

* * *

**A/N: I just want to say thanks to everyone who has added this story to their favourites, and/or have reviewed so far :) You guys rock! I never really understood it before, but reviews really do give motivation to write faster and better. **

**I hope that this chapter gives you some insights into what Bella is going through. Next we are back to Edward :)**

**As always, let me know what you think!**


	6. Chapter 5

**As we all know, I am, unfortunately, no Stephenie Meyer – All Twilight Characters belong to her.

* * *

**

**Chapter 5: EPOV**

"_Find me here,  
And speak to me.  
I want to feel you,  
I need to hear you.  
You are the light,  
That's leading me,  
To the place,  
Where I find peace again"_

_~ Everything, _Lifehouse

.

_I hear whimpering. It's a familiar sound, but somehow completely different and I am overwhelmed by a sense of déjà vu. _

_I look around me, but it is dark. I have no idea where I am or how I got there but I know that I need to follow the noise. I need to help. _

_I walk forward with my arms outstretched, trying not to trip or fall over anything. The whimpering gets louder and they turn into sobs. My stomach plummets as fear crawls over every inch of my skin. _

_I want to tell her I am coming. I want to tell her that I am here but the sound can't make it past the massive lump in my throat._

_I continue forward but it doesn't feel as though I am getting anywhere in the vast darkness that surrounds me. I am stuck, I am completely helpless._

"_Help me. Oh God, Please. Please no!" The words are desperate screams. She is pleading._

_I hear a low grumble and the sound of a gun cocking. It rings in my ears. I begin to run toward the sound. I no longer care if I fall. I push forward with everything in me._

"_Why did you have to try and get away?" My blood runs cold at the sound of the man's voice. _

"_You know I can't let you go and you know I can't let you take him." His voice is rising._

"_All you want to do is humiliate me and take everything I've earned; after everything I have done for you, after everything I have given you, this is how you repay me?"_

_The sobs get louder and I now recognize the dream I am in. I am no longer participating, I am just an observer._

_l have no control. _

_The screaming begins and my heart tears open as I am forced to listen to the desperate cries._

"_You stupid bitch!"_

"_No, Edward. Get out! Get away from here!" I hear her scream just before the gun shot rings out and the darkness dissipates at the sound._

_My entire body breaks down and I try to wake up. I don't want to see what I know is there. I try to close my eyes. I try to run away. But I have no control. I am no longer seeing this through my eyes, but through the 9 year-old eyes of a memory._

_I try to prepare myself as best I can but when the image clears, I finally realize what is different._

_It is not my mother's body lying lifeless on the floor, it is not her blood seeping out from her body, leaving her cold and pale._

_It's Bella's._

_._

I jolt up in bed. I am covered in sweat and my body is trembling.

I haven't had the dream in a few years and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why it is back or why it is different. For the last few weeks, I have had memories littering my dreams, but this is the first time I have had this particular one. The one I had every night for about a year of my life, just with some subtle differences.

My heart is beating furiously and I can feel the familiar panic rising in me. I take a ragged breathe, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling. I repeat the action and try to focus solely on getting my breathing steady.

I am out of practice but am grateful for all the years I have had to master the process of preventing the attack. When I was younger it was Esme or Carlisle who would calm me down. They'd wake to my screams and rush into my room, handing me a brown bag to breathe into. It was hard on them but they never let it show. They never gave up on me and eventually the dreams subsided as I began to move past what had happened.

There have been stages since then; times where I'd dream about certain memories, time's where I'd be surrounded by sirens and flashing lights. But this dream – the worst of them all – didn't return until today.

I feel the panic receding and I get out of bed and straight into the shower. The feel of the hot water hitting my muscles is soothing, as I try to remove the image of Bella's lifeless body from my mind. I try to replace it with an image of her smiling like I have done before, but it is impossible. It feels as though the image has been burned there. A constant reminder of what could happen if I fuck this up.

The water begins to run cold as I think and by the time I get dressed I am no longer panicked, or afraid, but I am utterly pissed. The lack of control and helplessness of the situation frustrates me endlessly. There is nothing I want more than to help her, but at the same time, there is a part of me that can't help but wish that I had never met her in the first place.

My stomach drops at the thought. _Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Edward._

I growl in pure frustration as I grab my watch from next to my bed and secure it around my wrist before grabbing my black leather jacket from my closet. The house is quiet. Em and Rose aren't home. Em is back at work today and Rose has gone to help at the shelter.

Last night, after fetching them from the airport, we had gotten Pizza's and had just chilled, watching TV and catching up. Rose had spoken about how excited her parents had been to see them and how they had doted on her and the baby.

I can't fathom why last night would be the night that I would have had _that_ dream. I hadn't even seen Bella since she left on Saturday night and Sunday was a pretty good day. What was the trigger?

I could hardly think straight as I made myself a cup of coffee and looked through the cupboards to find some cereal.

_Lucky Charms._

I pour myself a bowl and hurry through it. I don't taste anything. It doesn't help to settle the gnawing feeling that has established itself into the pit of my stomach.

Monday. My day off and all I want is to go to the pub and savour any distractions I can find. I slam the empty bowl into the sink.

I need a cigarette.

I haven't smoked since my high school days but you never forget the relief that nicotine can bring. I grab my keys and lock up the apartment before getting in my car and driving to the small grocery store.

I probably look like some kind of crazy guy on a mission as I storm into the shop. I grumble at the small brunette behind the counter as I ask for a pack of Marlboro's.

She is only about 17 and she looks at me as though I had just grown another head.

"What are you looking at?" I practically growl. She gasps and turns quickly, fumbling to find the Marlboros. I immediately feel guilty.

"Sorry", I mumble as I trade the smokes for cash. I don't wait for the change and I storm back to my car.

I sit in the Volvo feeling like a complete train wreck and try to get my head in order.

There is only one place to go.

I start the car and drive to the place I found when I was still a miserable teen and had gone in search of somewhere I could just be completely alone.

I park the car by the familiar trees and get out. I walk into the woods. My pace is fast as I walk the familiar path.

The only sound I can hear are my footsteps and in the silence I am left to think. My mind is bombarded with images from the original memory.

.

_I stare at my mother lying, cold on the bathroom floor. It feels as though time has stopped as I fall to the ground next to her._

'_Mommy!" I scream as I shake her. _

"_Get away from her," he says. I look up at him and see that he is still holding the gun. It is pointed to me and he is crying. _

"_This is all her fault!" He growls. My body is frozen with fear. There is a strange ringing sound. One I know but my brain cannot comprehend it. _

"_Shit!" He screams. "Why the fuck did you do this?" His voice rings in the air around me. My eyes are bleary with tears and I have no idea what to do._

"_No, Edward. Get out! Get away from here!" I hear my mom's last words and suddenly I am up and dashing through the door. _

_Another shot rings out and I collapse. There is a searing pain in my leg and as I hit the floor, the final shot echo's through the air_

_BANG._

_The ringing sounds become clearer and I recognise them as sirens. _

_I look down at my leg and see that I am bleeding. I get up and wobble through the passage. I can see the blue and red lights flashing through the darkness of the living room. _

_I can't make out anything but the lights as my eyes fill up. _

"_Help!" I scream. The sound breaks through the lump in my throat._

_There is a loud banging that fills the room and before I even know what is happening there are people swarming through the house. They are all around me._

"_We need a medic here!" A gruff male voice says. The voice is close to my ear. I am on the floor again._

"_Mommy!" I scream. My body feels numb but I can still feel the trembles that are wracking me._

"_Medic!' The voice screams as he hold me down._

"_It's alright, son. You need to calm down." I feel pressure on my leg as another man appears._

_Arms surround me and I feel myself being lifted._

_All I hear are random voices._

"_Poor boy..."_

"_...It's carnage in there."_

"_Bullet to the head..." _

_And then it is black. _

_._

I shake myself from my memories and step through the trees into the little meadow that I like to think of as a sanctuary.

I flop down to the floor, pull out a smoke and spark it. I pull hard and sigh in relief as it fills my lungs, sending the blessed nicotine into my bloodstream. I lay back, resting on my elbows and staring at the sky. I watch the clouds as they pass. The sun is out; it's the first time in a while and I revel in the feel of the warmth on my skin.

I take another pull of my smoke. Letting it calm my frayed nerves.

A throat clears behind me.

I start and jump up to look at the source of the noise. What I see leaves me speechless.

Bella is standing a few feet away, wide-eyed, and holding a blanket in one arm and a book in the other.

"I-I'm sorry," she stutters. Her voice is soft but it carries in the serene silence of the meadow.

All I can do is stare. I look over her. Her brown silky hair is tied back, leaving her shoulders bare. It's the first time in a long time that I have seen so much of her skin. She is wearing tight dark wash jeans and a pale blue vest. Her skin practically shimmers in the sunlight. Her brown hair is shining, reflecting a million different tones of brown.

The relief is immediate as I realize that she is alright. I can see the bruises on her arm and cheek but compared to the image of the lifeless body that has been stuck in my head since I woke up, she looks perfect.

"Um, I'll... I'll just go." She lets out a sigh and starts to turn away.

"No!" The word falls from my lips without any thought. She stops dead and turns back to face me.

"You can stay." The words stumble from my lips. "I mean... of course. There's nothing to apologize for."

She gives me a soft smile and I exhale in relief. "Thanks."

She looks nervous but not prepared to run.

"I never thought anyone else knew about this place." I say as she steps forward. I notice her intentions and help her lay her blanket down on the floor.

"Well, actually, I just stumbled on it yesterday."

"Oh." Is my intelligible response. My surprise at seeing Bella standing in the meadow seems to have screwed up my ability to form coherent sentences.

"Yeah, when I woke up and saw that the sun was making an appearance today, I decided to come out here and spend the day reading."

"Good idea," I say as I straighten the blanket out.

She sits down on it and looks up at me. She looks so innocent sitting there. I haven't seen her looking so _normal_ in so long. My heart beats with an unidentified emotion. Relief? Hope? I am not sure but it's a good feeling.

"Um, I'll just go." I start but she interrupts me.

"No, Edward. You don't have to. You can sit with me if you want. I'll just read and you can... do whatever you were doing before I interrupted."

It's my turn to smile at her.

"Okay. Thanks." I sit down on the blanket next to her feet and lean back on my elbows again. I leave an acceptable gap between us and take another pull of my smoke before putting it out.

"I didn't know you smoked."

"Oh." I grin at her. "I don't. Well not usually, anyway. I mean, I used to, but this is the first time in a while." Apparently her being here, in _my_ meadow, makes me ramble too.

It feels like we are in a dream world as I stare up at the clouds, like nothing can touch us here. Like we aren't really even here at all. Some time passes as I watch the clouds moving and listen to her turn the pages of her book.

"This may seem random but it kind of feels like I fell through the rabbit hole."

I laugh at her apt description and look over at her. She is smiling and there is a flush across her cheeks.

"I know exactly what you mean."

I lay my head down and close my eyes, just enjoying the moment – the peace.

I hear her shuffle and when I open my eyes and look over at her she is lying down on her stomach. Her nose is still buried in her book.

"What are you reading?" I ask.

She chuckles as she shows me the cover. "It's an old favourite."

"I can see so, though why anyone would read that book, more than once, willingly, I will never understand."

Her eyes widen in surprise. "You've read it?"

"Yeah, don't look so surprised – it's a classic."

She laughs. Not the small timid kind but a full, blown laugh. She flops over and clutches her stomach.

"It's not that funny!" I say but I am laughing too.

"Actually, it kind of is. I have this image of you sitting behind the bar, your head buried in a copy of _Wuthering Heights. _It's pretty funny."

We both lay there chuckling for a while, until the silence returns. There's a strange tension in the air.

"So what made you decide to come out here?" She asks timidly.

"I just needed to get a way for a bit."

"I know the feeling," she mumbles, almost too soft to hear.

"Yeah, I found this place a few years ago – junior high actually. I've been coming here to clear my head ever since."

Silence. "So you went to Forks high?"

I chuckle. "Yeah."

More silence. I turn to look at her.

"I wish I had lived here back then" She says, there is so much sadness in her voice. She opens her eyes and they are shining with unshed tears.

"You didn't miss much."

She turns and our gazes meet. I am blown away by how something that seems so small can be anything but.

"You have no idea."

She turns back to look at the sky and a single tear slips down her temple. I watch mesmerized and move my hand to stop it. Like magnets - I have no control over the action.

My hand touches her temple and when it meets her face I feel the hum that is always there when I am around her. But it is not just something in the air – a feeling - it is something palpable, something physical. My skin burns where there is contact. I am utterly lost in the moment and when I finally pull back I see her staring at me.

Her eyes speak volumes; she feels it too.

"Well," My voice is gentle; just a whisper. "If you ever want to give me an idea, you know where I am."

"Hmmm." She responds noncommittally as she closes her eyes.

We just sit together – taking in the peaceful serenity of the forest surrounding us. You can hear the birds fluttering close by and the wind passing through the trees.

As the time passes the sun begins to disappear behind the gathering clouds. It's a sign of reality.

"I better go." The words are barely spoken.

She opens her eyes and they are no longer shining. She pulls herself up and I have to resist the urge to stop her.

"Reality beckons."

I get up after her and help her shake out the blanket and fold it up.

"Where did you park?" I ask, hoping we can walk back together.

"I didn't. I walked."

"Oh."

"Yeah, um, my place isn't too far."

"Do you want a lift back?" Her eyes widen.

"Um, no. That wouldn't be a good idea." My fists clench as her words remind me of the reality of her situation.

"Why?" I say through gritted teeth. Even though I know the answer, I need to hear it.

She bites her lip and looks down. _Shit._

I immediately feel like an ass for bringing it up and making her uncomfortable.

I take a deep breath.

"Okay. I get it. I'm sorry for prying. I could always just drop you off ...down the road or... something?" I hesitate, hoping that I am saying the right thing.

When she looks up at me again. Her eyes have that similar glint in it. The one that makes me think of a wild animal. Her body is tense and she seems to be involved in her own inner struggle.

I watch closely as her shoulders slump and she exhales slowly.

"Yeah.. um... okay. We can do that." The hopeful feeling that was completely lost to me this morning, is back and stronger than ever.

I grin at her as I grab the blanket from her hands and begin the walk back to my car. She follows behind me and I slow a bit so she can catch up.

"Seems like our few moments of sunshine are over." I say after a few moments of awkward silence. The ominous grey that is typical for Forks, has returned.

She stops and looks at me. "Are you seriously talking about the weather?" She is smiling a little.

"Yeah. I suppose I am." I grin back at her.

"Well okay then. Yeah, back to the gloomy, wet and typical."

"I take it you don't like the rain." It's a question more than a statement.

"No. I don't really like any cold, wet... thing." I look at her as she says it. Her face scrunches as though she has just smelt something revolting.

I chuckle. "So why Forks? I mean, it is the rainiest town in the continental US."

"I was born here, my dad lived here and there are a lot of good memories here." Her voice takes on the sad tone that I recognize. I decide a quick change in subject is necessary.

"So what exactly do you do, Bella? It feels as though I know so little about you."

I climb some rocks up ahead and offer her my hand to help her up. She looks at it, but instead of taking it she just clambers up next to me.

I sigh but don't let it take away from the fact that she is letting me take her home. Even if it is just down the street and we have to hide it like criminals.

"I'm a freelance writer. I do some pieces for some small magazines and newspapers. I also do some online articles. Things like that." She answers as we continue our journey.

"Anything I could've read?"

"Doubt it." She doesn't elaborate.

I battle to think of what else I can ask her as everything seems like a touchy subject and the last thing I want is to upset her.

Before long, the trees begin to space out and I can see the light filtering in from the outside world.

"And there's my baby." I say as I see my car through the trees .

"Pffft. What is it with men and cars?" She says, her tone is playful.

"What is it with girls and chocolate?"

She giggles. "Good point."

We reach the car and I open the door for her. She looks hesitant but she gets in and takes the blanket from me.

I walk around the car and get in. I take my time as I start the engine, knowing that this is unlikely to happen again.

I pull out and drive slowly toward town.

"You can just drop me here," she says as we get closer to civilization.

"Isn't this still a bit far?"

"No," she says as she bites her lip. "My house is just down this street."

I don't want to stop but I know that if I want to help. If I want her to trust me, I need to let her believe that this isn't a big deal.

"Sure," I say as I pull over.

"She grabs the door handle and turns to me. Her hesitance is obvious.

"Thanks, Edward. I'll... um... I'll see you around."

"Yeah, sure. Anytime." I say as I force a smile.

I watch her as she gets out and walks down the street. Her hair is blowing in the slight wind that has picked up with the weather. It will start to rain soon and I am glad that I didn't have to drop her off during a storm or something.

I continue to watch as she reaches her house. I pull off and drive past, unable to stop myself from getting a last glimpse at her.

She is at the door of a simple, white double storey. There's a tree out front, with a tyre swing and I recognize it as the house where the Chief of Police used to stay when we were kids.

Like an old cartoon, a light bulb goes off inside my head.

Isabella Swan, daughter of Chief Swan, who was killed by some minor league ball player in Seattle a few years back.

I realize then that there is so much more to this situation than I could ever have imagined.

_Shit.

* * *

_

**A/N: Sheesh... some parts of this were pretty hard to write, as you can imagine.**

**So now we know a little more about Edward, and he knows a little more about Bella! **

**As always, please let me know your thoughts :-)**


	7. Chapter 6

**As we all know, I am, unfortunately, no Stephenie Meyer – All Twilight Characters belong to her.

* * *

**

**Chapter 6: BPOV**

"_They say they don't know when but a day is gonna come. When there won't be a moon and there won't be a sun. It will just go black. It will just go back to the way it was before."_

_~ Conor Oberst_

_._

It takes all of my strength to walk away from him and just that realization alone frightens me to a point where I can hardly breath.

I keep walking and try to shove all my thoughts away. I try to shove all the good back to wherever it came from.

When I am with him, he sucks me in and I cannot help but feel like reality is just some distant thing. When I am with him it is so easy to pretend that all the other things don't matter, that I am not this person, that I am not living this life.

It's something I am completely unfamiliar with - even when I was with Jacob, when I was the happiest I have ever been since my mom met Phil, it was never like this. I always had the truth hovering over me. I always knew that it would somehow find me. I was never fully free of it, I could never be myself. I was on guard, constantly keeping the walls up, making sure that no one could ever see me.

When I look at _him_, though, it is almost like I can see myself through his eyes – like I am the girl I see there. I could get lost there and the fact that the idea of it makes my heart warm, is frightening and disturbing.

I take deep breaths as I walk.

_Not far now._

I can still feel his eyes on me. I can still feel the hum in the air.

The same hum that I had reveled in all day. Being in that meadow. Lying with him there, I felt like Alice in Wonderland - like I was living a dream - a dream where bad things don't happen, where I can just be.

It took so much to a keep hold on reality.

I couldn't let myself let go and every time I almost did, something reminded me – something he said, or asked – and I am grateful for it.

The guilt swells as I remember.

I cannot allow that to happen again. Just wanting it is enough for the guilt eat me up. The few moments of reprieve I had today are enough to make me feel sick with myself.

I think back to how it all happened.

I had spent Sunday wandering through the woods – something I often do when I need to think, to get away. When I stumbled upon the meadow, I was astonished. I didn't have time to spend there and it was raining so I had decided to come back when the sun was out.

It made me feel better, having a plan, having something to look forward too.

I didn't know that it would be today but when I woke up to the sun peaking through the clouds, I quickly grabbed my blanket and book and made my way to look for it. I was certain I wouldn't find it again but after stumbling around in the woods for about an hour, I walked through the trees to find the most beautiful sight:

Edward was laying, almost hidden in the long grass, purple and white flowers surrounding him. He looked so beautiful, almost inhumanly so. I wanted to turn back, to leave him there, to leave the image uninterrupted, but I couldn't get myself to do it.

I cleared my throat and when he jumped up and saw me standing there, all I wanted to do was run. But the most surprising, the most alarming thing - it wasn't in the opposite direction.

He was amazing as he told me to stay, helping me get settled and then still offering to leave me alone there. It made my chest swell with unidentifiable emotions.

When I was laying next to him, I found that I could hardly concentrate on my book. I was reading the same things over and over and I eventually found myself turning the pages and pretending to read as I listened to his breathing; so soothing, so surreal, so not what I should have been doing, thinking, feeling.

But nothing compares to the feeling he elicited from me as he wiped my tear away.

I touch my face as I remember, still feeling the ghost of a burn there.

The action making me feel lost, swimming in a sea of completely foreign thoughts, feelings, reactions. I never knew how much my sanity relied on my knowing that, no matter how screwed up things were, I always knew where I was, what I was doing and how I got there.

I should never have let him take me home but I couldn't stop myself from agreeing - the idea of extending my little trip from reality, too tempting to resist.

I shake my head at all the memories; the replay doing nothing to relieve the nausea.

I arrive at the house and open the door quickly, without turning back, and walking straight back into reality.

As I get inside, James comes down the stairs.

"Oh, hey babe. Where were you?"

He is wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, his long, blond hair tied back.

"Oh, I was just having a day in the sun - reading." I say as I flash my book at him. I battle to keep my voice even – to betray nothing of the turmoil inside.

"Huh." He says. "The life of a freelance writer." He says it like it means nothing.

He is right.

I hurry up the stairs after giving him a quick kiss hello. I feel as though he will see right through me; my perfectly painted picture is completely ruined, Edward and the feelings he brings out in me, being the water that is washing away the layers, stripping me bare.

As I walk into our bedroom, closing the door behind me, a wave of nausea sends me running to the bathroom. I drop the blanket and book as I run, worried I won't make it.

I heave into the toilet bowl. There is nothing in my stomach and the bile burns as it makes its way up my throat.

The repeated heaving doesn't bring me any relief from the nausea, instead it sucks me in and takes me back to a time, just like this one, where no amount of heaving would make it stop.

A memory I have been fighting since it first occurred.

I begin to sob as I am forced back there.

.

_BANG!_

_The gun burns my hands as the shot rings out. The force of the bullet sending shocks through my entire upper body._

_Phil crumples to the ground, his face still holding the look of shock he had as he turned to see me standing there, my father's gun between my hands and pointed right at him. _

_His gun clunked as it hit the ground only moments before he joined it. _

_I sob uncontrollably as I drop the gun and bend down to examine my father's body. His blood is everywhere as I shake his unresponsive form, begging him to get up, to be alright._

_I lay on top of him, crying, not knowing or caring about what I should be doing. _

_Time is completely frozen and I am shocked when I feel the vibrations of my phone. I reach into my pocket to fish it out. _

_James' name is flashing across the screen._

_I answer quickly, making the second biggest mistake of my life. _

"_J-James... I... need... you," I sob into the phone. I am so afraid, confused, broken._

_All I want is to wake up from this nightmare. _

"_Where are you, baby?" His voice is strong and it makes me need him more._

"_At... the... cabin," I cry out, before my voice becomes incomprehensible._

_Time is still frozen and I am surprised when I feel arms around me. I fight against them._

"_Baby," his voice is soft in my ear. "Baby, he's gone." _

_He turns me into his chest as he holds onto my inconsolable form._

_The bile rises up and I push against him as I run outside, heaving just as I am now, trembles wracking my small frame. _

_I am on my knees in the garden, all control abandoned long ago. I want to scream, to die, to forget, to scrub the drying blood from my hands._

_James steps next to me, his phone to his ear as he rubs my back soothingly. _

"_We need an ambulance." His voice is so sure, so calm. I don't understand it but I am extremely grateful for his presence._

_He spits the address out to the operator and hangs up. He bends down and continues to rub my back._

"_Shhhh, it's going to be okay." I want to scream at the words, at him. Nothing is okay. Nothing will ever be okay._

"_It's my fault!" I scream through the burn in my throat, through the tears that are threatening to drown me._

"_No! Shut up!" He says, as he yanks me up from the ground. "Don't say that, baby! You didn't do anything! We just got here. We walked in, found them there and called the ambulance!"_

"_Bu-but," I start._

"_No! There are no buts! We snuck out together and only came back now," he looked at his watch. "It's 11:03pm, and we got here around 11. Do you hear me?" _

_I continue to sob. I can hear sirens coming closer. I can see the flashing lights but I don't care. All I can see is my father's body, blood everywhere._

_I hear voices an unperceivable time later. They don't ask a lot of questions, they all know my father. They all know what had been happening. Charlie Swan, Chief of Police, died protecting his daughter from her sick perverted step-father._

_No matter how many times I say that it is my fault, that it is not what it seems, they just console me. _

_._

I am laying on the floor, curled up on the cold tiles, when James walks in.

"Oh baby," he says as he picks me up and carries me to the bed. He puts me down and tucks me under the covers.

"Shhhh." He rubs my back. It doesn't help to pull me back from my mind, from reliving that night, over and over again. It only makes it worse. His voice his actions, his presence, they all make it worse.

"What's wrong?"

I don't answer. I can't.

I don't know how long we lay there before the blackness takes me.

xxxxxx

.

I wake up to a splitting headache, my throat on fire.

As I try to move, I am reminded of the day before, my chest and diaphragm raw from all the heaving.

I am once again alone in bed. I turn and see that it is already after 10:00am. There is a note on the bedside table.

**Had to go to work. I hope you feel better.**

**J**

I close my eyes as I put the letter back down.

I feel numb.

The feeling continues as I take a warm shower, before getting dressed into my sweats. I brush my teeth three times before the taste of the bile is gone.

I see the blanket and book from yesterday still laying on the floor of the bedroom. I pick them up and put them on the dresser. I feel the hint of a flutter as they remind me of _him_, of the meadow, of the sunshine on my face. The feeling doesn't last.

I make my way downstairs. I don't eat, I can't face it. I open up my laptop and check my mail. There are a few requests for some articles there and once again, I can't face it.

My phone rings. I get up and follow the sound, finding it on the kitchen counter.

I look down at the screen.

_Alice._

I don't answer.

I go and sit down on the couch and switch on the TV. I don't take note of what is on, instead I just sit there, staring at the screen, watching the pictures move, flash and blur.

There are still memories floating around in my head. Memories of my mom's face. Memories of my father – filled with life and after it was stripped from him. Memories of James. Memories of all kinds of before and afters.

I feel broken. Defeated. Empty.

There is nothing.

I don't know how long I sit there but before I know it, James is home.

"Hey, babe," He says as he walks through the door and into the kitchen.

I am surprised by the sound.

"Oh, hey." I say, my voice unused and scratchy.

"How are you feeling?" He asks as he sits down beside me.

"Better." It's the response he wants.

"Good. I brought home some Chinese. I tried to call you but you didn't answer."

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I don't know where my phone is." I lie.

He looks around. "Here it is." He says as he picks it up from the coffee table. He frowns at me.

"You must have been out if it."

"Hmm," I say, not really hearing him.

It's silent for a while so I turn to look at him, wondering why he is not talking.

He is still frowning. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm still not feeling well. But I am fine. Just the flu I think." I say it as I get up.

"Where are you going?"

"I think I need to lay down for a bit. Thanks for getting dinner. I'm sorry that I'm so out of it." I say as I recall his earlier words.

I make my way up the stairs.

I don't look back. When I get into the bedroom, I get changed before walking straight to the bathroom. I stand in front of the mirror for my nightly routine of brushing my teeth and washing my face.

I don't feel the usual pangs of self-loathing as I look at my reflection.

I feel nothing.

I walk to bed, get in and wait for sleep to take me.

xxxxxx

.

The week continues in much the same way. I do nothing, say nothing, sleep a lot.

By Friday Alice comes to the house.

I open the door for her and try to smile. She is holding a brown bag and looking at me with concern.

"How are you feeling?" She asks.

I am tired of the question. James has asked me that about 5 times a day. I answer it the same way.

"Better."

She walks in the door and I shut it behind her.

"I brought some breakfast," she says from the kitchen.

_Great._

"James said that you aren't really eating so I thought that he was probably just not offering you the right stuff. Men are clueless."

She walks out the kitchen with a smile and a plate stuffed with a variety of muffins and some chocolate croissants.

"That looks great Alice, but I'm just not hungry."

"You have to eat, Bella." Her voice is stern and she grabs my arm gently and pulls me toward the couch.

I sit down as she grabs a croissant and serviette before sitting down next to me.

She stares at me but I avoid her gaze.

"Okay. Let me be more clear. You will eat, Bella. I am not leaving here until you do."

I look at her. Her eyes are hard. She is not lying.

"Okay," I say as I grab a croissant.

I take a small bite and ignore the queasy feeling that accompanies it.

"Happy?" I ask.

"I'll be happy when it's finished."

I sigh but continue eating, hoping I can at least keep it down until she has left.

We sit in silence as we eat. I can feel her watching me but she says nothing.

Once I am finished eating, I am surprised that the queasiness is no longer there.

"So how are you, Al?" I ask, making conversation.

"Good. Just a little worried about you. Maybe we should take you to a doctor."

"No, really, I'm fine. I'm feeling much better today." I force a smile and am surprised at the ease at which lying has come to me this week. "The croissant did wonders. Thanks, Al."

She smiles back. "I am glad you're feeling better, you look terrible. No offense. What's actually wrong? James said that you have the flu but it doesn't look like it."

"It must be stomach bug or something. I've just been feeling a little queasy. Nothing too bad."

"Oh, when I bumped into James he made it sound a lot worse."

I chuckle. The sound doesn't feel right in my ears. "Yeah, he likes to over exaggerate."

It's the best I've got.

She laughs. "Don't they all."

We're quiet for a while. It should feel awkward but I am too tired to care.

"Well, I better get back to work. Do you think you'd be up for drinks tonight?" She asks as she grabs the plate of croissants and walks to the kitchen.

I think about it. Usually the prospect of alcohol makes me happy, but I have no reaction.

"Yeah, sure." I say because it is the expected response. Especially if I don't want Alice hovering over me and forcing me to go to a doctor.

"Great. Should we meet there, say, around 9?" She fishes her keys out from her over-sized bag.

"Sounds good." I say, as she leans over the back of the couch and kisses my cheek.

"Okay. I'll see you later then." Her sing song voice is lighter now; back to normal.

"Thanks again for the food, Al. See you later." I say as she opens the front door.

"Anytime, Bella." The front door closes behind her.

_Anytime, Bella. _I hear his voice in my head but there is still no reaction.

xxxxxx

.

James gets home early.

"Hey," I say, confused, as I look at the time.

_15h00._

"We got it!" His voice is filled with happiness and I am still confused.

He shakes his head at me. "The contract, Bella. The one for the new shopping mall in Spokane?"

I am _still_ confused. "Jesus, Bella. Do you listen to anything I say? I have been talking about it all week!"

"Oh, that's great, babe!" I say injecting as much enthusiasm into my voice as possible, as I get up and hug him.

He chuckles a bit. "A bit slow on the uptake are we?"

"Yeah, must be a side effect of the flu." _Flu is now a codeword for whatever it is that is wrong with me._

It helps with the lying.

"We're leaving tomorrow. I know it's soon, but we have to hurry if we want to impress them."

I expect a wash of happiness, or excitement, or something that will attest to the fact that he is going away. There is still nothing.

"How long are you going for?" I ask.

"I'm not sure. We need to see the site before we can give them an estimate, but it's usually a few months. We're hoping to get this done really quickly though."

His smile is the widest I have seen in a long time. "If we get this one right then the chance of us expanding and working throughout Washington are pretty good."

I smile back at him. _I better phone Alice and cancel for tonight._

"Why? What plans did you have?" I look at him and realize I must have said that out loud.

"Nothing much. Alice just came over earlier to check on me and since I am feeling better she asked if I wanted to go for drinks."

"You don't have to cancel, babe. Go. Have some fun. You've been sick all week and I'll just be packing anyway."

"Are you sure? I don't mind helping you." I don't want to stay here but I don't want to go out either.

"Yeah. You know I don't really like other people touching my shit anyway."

xxxxxx

.

It's 8 'o clock and I am dressed in jeans and a hoodie and ready to go. James is busy packing upstairs. I grab my bag, taking out my cell and keys.

As I get in the car, I call Alice.

"Hi, Bella." She answers.

"Hey, Al. I am so sorry but I'm not going to be able to come out tonight."

"Oh, are you feeling bad again? I can always just come over there and keep you company instead?"

"No. It's not that. Um, James got a contract in Spokane and he's leaving tomorrow so I am just going to spend the night with him."

"Oh," The disappointment is clear in her voice. "How long is he going for?"

"He's not sure but probably a few months."

She gasps.

"A few months? WOW, that's long. I would die if Jazz went away for that long." There's a pause. "Don't worry, Bella, I totally get it! Enjoy the night with your man. I'll see you tomorrow. " She rambles, in typical Alice fashion.

"Thanks, Al. Enjoy your night!"

I hang up and let my head fall back in my seat. _Now what?_

xxxxxx

.

I spend the night driving. I drive to Port Angeles and then I drive around there for a while, never leaving my car, before driving back home. I take it slow, trying to take up the time.

Three and a half hours later I am back at home. It's still early but the lights are out.

I sigh in relief.

I get out the car and walk into the house. It feels empty and cold – nothing like the house I remember from my many holidays in Forks.

I make my way upstairs and enter the room. I can see James in bed. He is breathing heavily as he sleeps, facing away from me, the blanket covering his entire form.

I take off my shoes and climb, still dressed, into bed beside him.

The blackness comes quickly.

xxxxxx

.

The dreams are still there. They still wake me up. The only difference is their effect.

All I feel is numb.

I turn over. James is already gone. He woke me up earlier while he was getting ready to leave but I fell back asleep as soon as he was gone.

As I begin to doze off again, there is a knock at the door.

I get up and walk down the stairs, not bothering to even brush my teeth or hair, or make any attempt at looking presentable.

I open the door.

Edward is standing there smiling lightly.

"Hey," his voice is pure velvet and I feel something for the first time in days.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, my voice harsh. I don't want to feel.

His smile falls and I squelch the guilt.

"Alice said you haven't been feeling well, and um, that, well _he_," he grits his teeth as he mentions James, "would be going away, so I thought I'd just drop off something that might make you feel a bit better."

He offers me a brown bag and I just stare at it.

"Please just take it, Bella. This was obviously a bad idea, and I'm sorry, but I really didn't mean anything by it."

I take the bag and he drops his arm back down.

"Thanks," I force a small smile. "I'm sorry for reacting like that. I'm not a morning person."

He frowns and I can feel his stare penetrating me; seeing things it shouldn't.

"It's afternoon, Bella."

"I'm sick. You sleep a lot when you're sick. It's easy to get confused."

"Have you gone to see a doctor or something?" His voice is gentle.

"Yes," I lie. "It's just a stomach bug. I'll be fine."

I can see he doesn't believe me. _Fucking Edward and his knowing eyes._

"Um, well, thanks again." I say as I step back.

"Bella?" He asks before I shut the door.

I look at him.

"Nevermind," he says as he turns to walk away.

I let him.

I close the door and walk to the kitchen. I put the bag down on the counter and open it.

My eyes tear up as I see what it is.

It's crazy what a simple chocolate milkshake can make you feel.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I know that was a depressing chapter but like they say – "It has to get worse before it can get better." So I hope that it wasn't too bad!**

**I love reviews more than Edward showing up at my door with chocolate milkshake! :-)**


	8. Chapter 7

**As we all know, I am, unfortunately, no Stephenie Meyer – All Twilight Characters belong to her.

* * *

**

**Chapter 7: EPOV**

_When you try your best, but you don't succeed  
When you get what you want, but not what you need  
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep  
Stuck in reverse_

_And the tears come streaming down your face  
When you lose something you can't replace  
When you love someone, but it goes to waste  
Could it be worse?_

_Lights will guide you home  
And ignite your bones  
And I will try to fix you_

_~ Fix you, _Coldplay

.

Dinner at Esme's is always enjoyable but after the day I had with Bella in that meadow, I am mess. All I want to do is go home and research, to find out as much about what happened to the Chief as possible.

Charlie Swan was more than just the Chief of Police to me and my family.

He was the gruff voice from my memories. He was the one who found me crumpled on my passage floor, with a gunshot wound to the leg, screaming for help. He was the one who came to the hospital afterward, who checked up on me. He was the one who had cared about what would happen to me.

And now he was also the one who had fathered this broken girl that has somehow managed to crawl underneath my skin.

And I would never even get the chance to thank him.

I can't even remember the drive from Bella's to Esme's. Since I had put the pieces together, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I can't understand how it is even possible that I never met Bella before, how hadn't I put the pieces together before now – like when she first moved into town?

I remember the Chief talking about her. I remember how she would come to visit during holidays. He was so proud of her. He'd talk about her for weeks before she was due for her visit.

I remember how protective he was of her.

_Maybe that's why I hadn't met her before._

I got into a lot of trouble - a lot of trouble that the Chief helped to get me out of.

I always felt as though we understood each other – he seemed to see right through all my bullshit.

He always gave me the benefit of the doubt.

There were times when it would annoy the shit out of me, when I wanted him to see past the little boy with his fucked up past. But he never really did. He was always a little more lenient on me. Sure, I mean, he'd phone Carlisle and I'd still get into trouble, but he was always the one who'd show up when I was involved in anything I shouldn't have been.

I'm convinced he told every one of the other cops that if they saw me they had to call him before they did anything else.

When the news of his death, his _murder_, broke, it was hard on everyone in this town. Every single person had some kind of relationship with Charlie Swan.

I remember Esme saying how she would never be able to thank him enough – that he was the reason that they had me. At the time, all I thought was that the reason they had me is because my dad was a fuck up. A fuck up that killed my mom, shot me and then like a coward, shot himself.

But I did understand. I mean, I am grateful to the Chief - he got me out of there.

When Esme and Carlisle had offered to let me stay with them, to adopt me, he was the one who helped prevent me from having to go into the system first. If it weren't for him, I might not have had Esme or Carlisle - or Emmett. I could have been one of those kids who was shuffled from one foster family to the next.

The Chief was a hero.

Maybe not a Superman, or Spiderman, or any of those bullshit supernatural types, but he was a damn hero.

The entire town had attended the memorial down at First Beach.

_Except for me._

Memorials were not my thing. I was 18 and miserable, filled with anger at the world and wanting to avoid any kind of emotion, at all costs, and watching someone scatter the Chief's body, burnt to ashes, into the ocean and talk about how great he was, would not have allowed me to keep my walls up.

I would have cried like a girl.

I wish I had now though. I wish I could have seen her then, been there for her somehow.

_Surely she wasn't in this situation yet._

_Maybe I could have done something. _

I stopped the thoughts right there. One thing I am very sure of, is that my 18 year old self would have run the moment I felt the connection between us. That hum that is always around me when I am near her? It would have scared the shit out of me back then. Not that I would have admitted that to anyone, or even myself.

"Edward," I hear Esme's voice through the mountain of thoughts, and possibilities, that are swimming through my head.

"Mom?"

"For the fifteenth time, do you want some custard on your pudding?" She chuckles.

"What?" I look at her and she is holding out a bowl to me. If Carlisle, or Emmett, were here they'd have kicked me under the table.

"Oh, um, yes please." I give her a grin.

While she pours some custard into my bowl, I continue with the question that had been building in my head as I thought through the past.

"What do you remember about what happened to the Chief?" I don't need to elaborate.

My mom looks up at me, eyes wide. She is shocked at the question but she catches herself and reassemble her face to hide it.

She clears her throat as she reaches over and places the bowl in front of me. She is sitting across from me at the 8-seater mahogany table. Monday's are usually just for us.

"What do you want to know?" she asks as she looks down into the bowl in front of her.

"Everything." She looks at me again. Her eyes are filled with compassion.

"Um, well, you know that he was shot."

"Yeah, but how did it happen? Why was he there?" I knew so little of the details because when it happened ,I cut myself off from it. Every time I heard them talking about it, I freaked out and told them that I didn't want to know.

I can only imagine how they felt, walking on egg shells around me all the time.

It was about 2 weeks after I found out about the chief that I tried my one and only hit of coke. Of course, I was busted and Carlisle gave me a speech I will probably never forget. It was a very bad time, but even more so for my parents, and now that I understand the connection, I can only imagine what Bella had gone through.

_God, I was such a selfish prick._

I watch Esme as she takes a few small bites of her dessert. I still haven't touched mine.

Just as I begin to think that she isn't going to answer me, she starts talking.

"From what we heard afterward, Charlie was shot by Renee's husband at the time, I think his name was Phil," she pauses and bites her cheek in thought. "Phil Dwyer, if I remember correctly. He shot him when Charlie came to their holiday home to fetch his daughter. Do you remember that he had a daughter? She was only a year or two younger than you."

"Yeah, um, I remember. Did you ever meet her?" I ask, because I can't help it. I need to know if my mom saw her, met her, knew her.

"Yes, I did actually. She was a sweet little thing. Quiet, a lot like her dad."

"When did you meet her?"

"Well besides for just seeing her around a few times, I met her at the hospital."

"What? Was she hurt when Charlie got shot?" I can't help the little bit of panic in my voice. The thought of Bella hurt, shot, bleeding. It makes my heart race even though it is was so long ago.

"No, no. She was just there because she broke her arm. I went to meet Carlisle at the hospital because we were going to go out for dinner but Charlie called last minute and asked him to please be there when they brought her in. She hated that they were making such a fuss." My mom smiles at the memory.

"She was very small, but fiery. I could see that in her the minute I met her. She had a lot of spirit." And then she frowns.

Yeah, I know that frown. It's the 'it's so sad what happened to her' frown.

I think back to the Bella I see now and my heart hurts for her. For what she has gone through.

"Apparently she was quite a common patient, always getting hurt. I remember Charlie saying that Renee must think that he is a terrible father because every time she went home she had bruises, stitches or a broken bone. Isabella just clicked her tongue at him and told him that he is taking way too much credit. It was sweet to watch them together."

I can picture it perfectly – Bella young, happy, and full of life.

"So why did Charlie go to the cabin to fetch her? Was she supposed to be coming here for the holidays?"

My mom's face drops. "Well from what we understand there was talk about a custody battle. Apparently Phil and Isabella didn't get along and she wanted to come and live with Charlie."

"So her mom wouldn't let her?"

"Well, no. From what we can tell, her mom thought she was being ridiculous and was going to fight it."

"Well that turned out well." I mumbled to myself.

My mom sighed. Obviously hearing my words. "That night," Esme pauses for a while as she gathers the plates and walks into the kitchen. I grab a few and follow her. "According to the reports, Isabella had called Charlie in hysterics and told him to come and get her. When he got there Phil was the only one home. Isabella had gone to her boyfriend's house to wait for him. It seems that there was an argument, that must have escalated, ending with Phil shooting Charlie and Charlie shooting Phil."

I sucked in a breath. I didn't know that. The imagery is clear and I want to tell Esme to stop because it is a little too close to home, but I don't. Instead I ask for more.

"What happened to Bella?"

We are in the kitchen now. My mom is leaning with her back against the sink where all the dishes lay, and I am leaning on the counter across from her.

She is staring at me, probing, trying to figure something out.

"_Isa_bella," she emphasizes the first part, "was distraught, obviously. But, from what I understand, her boyfriend took care of her. And she went to college in Seattle after the memorial, I think. It sounded like she got her life together." She turns around and twists the taps to fill the sink. "Since she moved back here, I've only seen her a few times. But I don't think she remembers me."

It's silent as the sink fills. I am lost in thoughts of Bella with some unknown man. All I can think is that it can't be _him._

"Why the sudden interest, Edward?" My mom's eyes are on me again and this time they are full of suspicion.

I consider telling her but I decide against it for now.

"I don't know," I lie. "I drove past his old house today and it made me realize that I never did find out exactly what happened to him."

I walk toward her and grab the dish towel from the counter on her left.

"You wash, I'll dry" I grin and hope that she will leave it at that.

xxxxxx

.

Tuesday.

Nothing. I don't see or hear from her. I try to push it out my mind. I try to forget the hum, the burn, the feelings, the thoughts. It's hard but I get through the day. I tell myself that I'll see her tomorrow. It helps.

xxxxxx

.

Wednesday.

I still don't hear from her. It is a little easier to think around it, to continue with life and pretend I haven't found out such a crucial connection to her. One that is real, something measurable. Jasper comes in to the pub for lunch and he doesn't even mention her. I take that as a sign that she is fine.

xxxxxx

.

Thursday.

I am worried. I have _the_ dream again. I realize how close to home this all is and I wonder if she dreams about things too. I drive past her house on the way home, but _he_ is there.

xxxxxx

.

Friday.

I spend the day imagining her walking through the door. Every time the door swings open, my heart jumps.

But it is never her and I feel like a complete idiot for thinking about it constantly. Jasper and Alice do come in, though, and I join them for a drink during my break.

"So where's the entourage tonight, Alice?" I tease. Pretending that there is more to my question than just – "So where's Bella?"

She rolls her eyes at me. "Bella and Angela hardly count as an entourage. Not that we have been out with Angela for a while. She seems to be one of those 'get a boyfriend and stop seeing my friends' types."

She zones out as she speaks. Undoubtedly planning all the ways to fix it.

"Okay, so where's Bella tonight?" So much for subtlety.

Jasper raises his eyebrow as he looks at me but Alice just answers. "She's with James."

His name creeps up my spine and makes all my hairs stand up straight. My fists clench and my stomach tightens into intricate knots.

"She's been sick all week, and she was finally feeling better and was gonna come out with us tonight but now James is going on a sudden trip early tomorrow morning so she's just spending the night with him. I don't know how she does it, I mean, I wouldn't even be able to stay away from you for a week," she rambles as she turns to Jasper.

Their voices fade off. I don't hear anything past Bella being sick and him going away. Did he hurt her again? Was it so bad that she couldn't even leave the house?

My stomach churns at the thought.

xxxxxx

.

My sleep is the most disturbed it has been in years. I wake up at least once every half an hour, plagued with visions of her hurt and bleeding. They are mixed with images of the Chief, of him getting shot, of him trying to protect her.

Him begging me to help her - to save her.

I am up at the crack of dawn. I can't even try to sleep anymore. I go for a run to try and clear my head. All it does is give me more time to think.

I get home, shower and get ready for the day. I throw on some clothes, not even thinking about what I am doing.

I drive to the pub. It's quiet because I am too early.

By 11, I am going crazy. I can't think straight. The exhaustion making it worse.

I think of all the things I could do and before I know it, I am in the kitchen and making milkshakes. After the fourth set, I am gripping my hair in frustration.

_It needs to be perfect._

Garrett walks in.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asks, his soft tone doesn't match his words.

"Milkshakes," I grumble.

"Yeah, I see that."

I carry on grating the chocolate flakes on the top.

"Go home."

"What?" I turn to look at him.

"Edward, you look like shit. Did you sleep at all?"

I ignore the question but stop the grating and start cleaning up.

"No, seriously, take your milkshakes and go home! Get some sleep. I'll take over here."

I stare at him, a plan setting into motion in my head.

I grab the milkshake, cover it and stick it in a brown bag.

"Thanks, man. I owe you one." I say as I walk out.

xxxxxx

.

The drive to Bella's is long as I try not to think about what I am doing.

I am grateful when his see that his car is gone. That Alice was right.

I walk to the door. My hands are sweating from nerves. I am scared of what I may find.

xxxxxx

.

_She doesn't need a chocolate milkshake, Edward. She needs a goddamn doctor._ I chastise myself as I make my way back to my car. As much as I was relieved to see her whole, unharmed, I am chilled to the bone by the vacancy in her eyes.

A chocolate milkshake is not going to bring the little bit of light I saw on Monday back. It's not going to bring colour to her cheeks, or make the dark circles under her eyes disappear.

Every step toward my car breaks my heart more and more. It feels as though every cell in my body is begging for me to stay with her. To help her. To take her to Carlisle - _Anything_, as long as I _do_ something.

But I ignore the urge. I restrain myself and stick to my thoughts of not pushing her too far. It's blatant by her response, that she doesn't want me there. Whether it's just me, or everyone in general, remains to be seen.

At least _he_ is gone.

Well, for the moment..

I walk to my car thinking about how Isabella Swan could have gotten to this point? How had she ended up, after having a Police Chief for a father, as the punching bag for some fucking asshole? What happened after college? Why did she come back? Where was her mom?

So many questions and only one person who can answer them.

_Yeah, like that is going to happen anytime soon._

I snap out of my crazy thoughts and realize that I am just sitting in my car , still parked in Bella's driveway.

As I put my car in gear and start to reverse, I feel it - the hum, the strange cord that connects us. It is strong and vibrating and I know that she is somewhere close to me. I look up and see her standing between the front door and my car. She is statuesque, like she doesn't know what she is doing but can't seem to stop herself. Her hair is a mess, all she is wearing are a simple pair of jeans and a plain back hoodie.

She is beautiful.

_Beautifully Broken._

I take the car out of gear, open my door and slowly get out. I watch her as I stand with my door open, one leg in and my arm on the roof.

There are small tears slipping down her cheeks and that ingrained need to comfort her, to wipe them away, consumes me. I start to move, shutting the car door, but she stops me by lifting her hands in front of her.

"Why?" Her small voice floats to me through the chill of the air. "Why are you here? Why are you always so nice to me?" Her voice rises as she continues. "I'm a bitch. I avoid you. I lie to you. I'm all over the goddamn place. And then you show up here when I am feeling so shit. When I am feeling as though the only reason to live is so that I can feel all this crap, because I deserve it all, and then you come along and bring me chocolate milkshake?" She laughs humourlessly. "And I don't even need to taste it, because just seeing it there, it reminds me of you. It reminds me that you give a shit."

Her cheeks are wet with tears.

"But what I don't understand is why? Why do you give a shit, Edward?"

My heart constricts more and more as she talks. I want to stop her but I am still stuck on her previous words.

_I deserve it all._

She really believes that. It's in the way she says it. It's in every word. It starts to rain. Not the soft kind but the kind that soaks you down to the bone.

"Get in the car, Bella"

She doesn't move. She just stands there, wet and trembling. Her breathing deep and heavy. Steam all around her from the warmth of her breath.

"Please, Bella. Please get in the car." I beg over the noise of the rain.

I watch her carefully. I can almost feel the inner struggle.

After what feels like hours, she shrugs and walks to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and getting in. She shuts it behind her at the same time as I do.

I start the car and put the heater up. I can hear her shivering. I think how it would probably be better for her to go inside, to get out of her wet clothes, but I don't want to lose this moment, this time where she is opening up, even if I still don't understand.

I turn in my seat to face her. She is biting her lip and looking down at her lap.

"Bella?" I say softly, wanting her to look at me.

She doesn't.

"Bella," I say again as I move to touch her. To put my hand under her chin. To make her look at me.

I don't make contact. She lifts her head and I drop my hand just before my fingers reach her.

"I just give a shit, Bella." I start. "There's this connection. I don't know how to explain it but it's there and I just want to know you, Bella, to be your friend, to help you out, to be there for you. Why is that so hard to understand?"

She diverts her gaze and sighs. "Y - you shouldn't, y-you wouldn't, if you did know me." It's a whisper and I can hardly make out her words through the shivering.

It's quiet for a while. I am not sure how to explain the way I feel. I'm not sure how to put it into words.

"I care about you, Bella." The words feel so inadequate for what I am feeling. "I might not know everything about you, but I know some things. Some things that you probably don't even know that I know. Things I probably shouldn't know. God, I don't know what to say to you to make you understand, to make you see what I see."

I sigh and lean back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"I just want to be your friend, Bella." I finish.

Silence. I don't move, still stuck trying to think of a way to explain things to her fully. It's hard to talk to someone when you are scared that you may say something that will send them running.

"You scare me." Her voice is so small, almost too soft for me to hear, and I wonder if I was meant to.

"Why?" I ask. I still don't turn to look at her but I drop my hand from my face. "Why do I scare you, Bella?"

She sucks in a breath and I turn my head to see her looking at me. Her eyes are wide but she doesn't look like she is going to run.

She exhales and her shoulders drop.

"This," she says and she moves her hand between us, "connection, as you put it, I-I feel it to and it makes me want to talk to you. It makes me want to tell you... things. My picture falls apart around you and I can't pretend. And I-I can't just let go. It's... disconcerting. There are things about me, Edward, things that would change everything you think you know." She scrunches up her face. "I am not a good person." Her voice is stronger now, steady, even.

She turns her head and moves to open the door but I grab her arm to stop her. The feeling is there, even through her wet hoodie – the tingle, the burn.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, Bella. You don't have to pretend. You don't have to do anything. Just... just let me be your friend."

She looks up and into my eyes. The vacancy, that has haunted me for weeks, is gone. Her chocolate orbs are captivating in their depth. There is sadness there. So much sadness that it takes my breath away. But in among the sadness there is hope. It may only be a spark, but it is there and it is something to hold onto.

Her eyes begin to shine as the tears build. She closes them and a tear slips over. I once again fight the urge to catch it.

"Please, Bella, don't fight me." I whisper.

I don't know what it is but something in my voice must register with her because as she opens her eyes, I can see her there. I can see the acceptance. I can see the hope shining stronger than ever.

"Okay, Edward ... I think I can, um, try the friends thing."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating... Real Life has managed to creep up on me but in case you are ever worried, I will never abandon this story and I will try my best to update at least once a week!**

**As always, please let me know your thoughts – good or bad :-)**


	9. Chapter 8

**As we all know, I am, unfortunately, no Stephenie Meyer – All Twilight Characters belong to her. Everything else belongs to me :-)**

**Polyvores can be found on my profile.

* * *

**

**Chapter 8: BPOV**

"_What saves a man is to take a step. Then another step."_

_Antoine de Saint-Exupery_

_._

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, Bella. You don't have to pretend. You don't have to do anything. Just... just let me be your friend."

His voice is cracking. His face is pleading. And it is too much. It is all just too much.

Him being here, caring, begging, fighting. It's too much. I'm so scared of the things that I am feeling that I can hardly breathe. All I want to do is run. I want to get away – as far away as I can. I would never have thought, that with everything that has happened, this would be the scariest thing.

Because I can't say no. I can't walk away. I can't tell him to leave me alone.

The tears are building as my chest constricts. The numbness is gone. I feel raw. Empty. Broken. And completely vulnerable.

I close my eyes. Trying to push it all back. Trying to find the courage to walk away.

"Please, Bella, don't fight me."

And it's like trying to stop a wrecking ball. The momentum had been building through the entire conversation and it is impossible to stop it.

It is so unfair to him. It is so extremely selfish and wrong. So so wrong. He is seeing someone else. Those beautifully green compassion filled eyes are meant for someone else.

"Okay, Edward ... I think I can, um, try the friends thing." The words roll out my mouth. They are too easy to say.

My head is screaming at me.

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

I have no idea what I am doing.

_Friends? _God, I want that. I want it so much it hurts, but that is the exact reason why it is so wrong.

He exhales as if in relief.

"Okay." He says as he removes his hold on me. "Friends." The left side of his mouth pulls up a little as he smiles. It's not a full one but it is something and something inside of me feels good knowing that I put it there, that something seemingly so simple has an effect on him

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

"I'm not sure what that entails exactly," I say because it's true. Having a title does not change anything and I have no idea what his expectations are.

His mouth lifts a little more. And the tension begins to slowly ooze away from my body, from the car, from everything.

"To be honest, neither do I, but I do know one thing, no more running, or wanting to run, or whatever."

"Please." He tacks on at the end.

I nod.

"And no avoiding me or the pub or anything like that."

I nod again.

"And..."

"There are a lot of stipulations to this friends thing," I interrupt.

He chuckles and it slices what is left of the tension like a hot knife through butter.

"I'm starting to think that I should have given myself time to consider it." I continue.

"Okay, okay." He holds his hands up in front of him as he says it.

I smile at him and it's the first real one in a long time.

"Seriously though. I need you to stop hiding from me." His voice is soft, but he is still smiling.

I can feel the strange tension building again, but it's different. It's that same feeling I get when he looks at me with his knowing eyes – when he sees _me_. It's amazing to me how aware of everything I am when I am with him. I can feel so much more - physically, emotionally. I feel alive. And I hate it. And love it. And I am so scared of it that I could scream.

We stare at each other. His eyes are imploring and I want to say anything to keep him smiling, to make his smile bigger, but I know I can't.

"I can't promise anything, but I will...try." Of course, while I say it, I know I am lying. I know that he will never know me. I know that I will always be hiding. I know that I will always wish he could. I also know that this has a time frame, and a pretty short one at that.

"That's all I am asking for." He says as he leans back in his chair.

"Do you wanna go get something to eat? I'm starving. Friends do that right?" He asks, his voice a little hesitant.

I don't answer immediately.

_No. No. No._ My head continues trying to make me do the right thing.

"Eat? Yeah, I'm pretty sure that they do."

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

He laughs again, as he opens his eyes. The sound is addictive.

"Okay, smart ass." He says reaches for the keys in the ignition. He turns them and the engine comes to life.

The rain has subsided a bit and the heater has created a warm, little bubble inside the Volvo.

"Where to? The diner?" I ask. There aren't a whole lot of options in Forks.

"God no. I eat enough of the pub grub stuff."

"Hmm. Port Angeles then?"

"Is that okay?"

"Um, yeah. Why not?"

He puts the car in reverse and turns to look behind him as he backs out the driveway.

Silence is not a good thing. My thoughts are too loud.

_What the hell do you think you are doing?_

"Do you mind?" I ask as I reach forward to turn on the radio.

"Nope. Go ahead"

I turn it on and am shocked by the sounds that fill the car.

He looks at me. I raise my eyebrow and he shrugs as he tries to hold his smile in.

I burst into laughter. It's a foreign feeling and I can't stop. He looks over at me. He is still smiling but the picture is blurry as tears start to well up in my eyes. Tears born of laughter – the kind I haven't felt in years.

It's over a year's worth of pent up laughter and I feel ridiculous. It makes me laugh harder.

He laughs with me. The sound is so good. And with the euphoria filling me up, I decide to make sure I hear it more often.

I try to speak after a few more moments of laughter.

"As your f- friend, I f-feel... the need to p-point out... that this is something to be ashamed enough of to at _least_ try to hide it."

By the end of the sentence I start to make sense again. The laughter is dying down.

"Well, in all fairness, I wasn't exactly expecting company." He says as he continues driving, smiling brightly while he watches the road.

"Still. I mean, I realize that you are a bit _different_ than the stereotype, but seriously? This is pushing it."

He tries to keep the laughter in but I can see it there, bubbling on the surface, and I revel in it.

"It's not mine." He says while reaching over to grab another CD out the cubby.

"Hmmm... I'm sure that is what they all say."

He loses his control and a chuckle slips out as he replaces the CD.

"It's my brother, Emmett's. His wife, Rose, is pregnant and she keeps playing this crap in the house because "the baby likes it"." He uses air quotes as he says it. "I thought it was funny so Em put the CD in my car to hide it and to get me back. I kinda forgot it was there."

My smile is bright as he talks. It's so nice to listen to him talk about his family – to be so normal.

"The big guy is Emmett, right?"

"Yeah, that would be him." He is still chuckling.

"Do you see them often?" I ask to keep the normal going.

"Yeah, I've been staying with them for a while."

"How far along is his wife? I don't think I've seen her."

"Oh, like 5 or 6 months, I think." He shrugs as he says it.

The conversation continues as we drive. I learn that he will be taking over the pub from the end of the month. He tells me his plans for it and his eyes sparkle as he talks. I can visualize it and I just allow myself to enjoy the normalcy of it. I allow myself to live in his world for a while.

That is until I look at the speedometer.

"What the hell, Edward? Slow down!"

He looks over at me, startled, as he pushes the break.

"The Volvo is one of the safest cars in the world, Bella. Calm down."

"That doesn't mean you can drive it like a maniac!" My voice is slightly panicked.

He chuckles a little. "Okay, okay. I've slowed down. Relax. I get a little carried away sometimes."

"My dad was the chief of police, that shit sticks with you. I can't even go like five miles over the limit without feeling bad about it." I say once we've slowed down to a more comfortable speed. Charlie drilled that into my head every time I went anywhere with him.

I let out a shaky breath.

"Sorry." He starts. "I really do just get a little carried away sometimes."

I look over at him and he is looking at me with a curious expression. I can only imagine where his thoughts are. I wasn't supposed to mention Charlie. I don't know whether Edward knew him or knows what happened. I don't know whether he even knew who I was.

I can tell he wants to know more, but he doesn't ask and I am grateful.

I battle to not think about Charlie, to picture him in the driver's seat lecturing me about every safety precaution under the sun.

_I can hear his voice perfectly. "No matter how well you think you can drive, Bells, you never know what the other people on the road will do. You have to always be prepared."_

I can feel the memories sucking me in. I can feel the knot in my stomach tightening. I can feel my chest constricting.

"Bella?" His voice is worried and it helps to keep me here. The velvet reminding me of where I am and who I am with.

I push it all back. I fight the feelings. I fight for this moment, for the normalcy.

"I'm fine." I look at him and I can see all the unasked questions in his eyes. All the questions I cannot answer.

"We're almost there." He says as we get close to the turn off.

xxxxxx

.

We arrive in town and Edward parks in front of a quaint little restaurant – _Bella Italia_. It's been quiet for the last few minutes of the drive. He didn't ask the questions but I can see that he is thinking them, while I have just been trying not to think at all.

I can't help it, I snort at the irony.

"What?" he asks. A small smirk playing on his lips.

I just look at him and roll my eyes as I get out of the passenger side of his Volvo.

He follows suit and gets out the car, closing and locking the doors.

He chuckles a bit as we walk in. The place is small and dimly lit. There are cubicles along the walls and standard tables placed in what seems like the same random pattern that every other restaurant has.

A waitress comes up to us.

"Hey," she starts. "Table for two?" She is grabbing menus already.

We're still wet, although not dripping, and I can only imagine what we must look like.

"Yeah, can we get one of those cubicles?" Edward asks as we start walking toward one. His hand is hovering over my lower back. He is not really even touching me and I can feel the warmth.

"Sure," She says and we follow her through. She places the menus down as Edward and I slip into the cubicle across from one another.

"Thanks," He smiles at her, his crooked grin, and she smiles back. I can see her cheeks reddening slightly. His hair is in a disarray but it suits him. His green eyes are soft and when he smiles the corners crinkle up.

My stomach flutters.

"Can I get you something to drink?" She is talking to him. She doesn't even look at me.

"Yeah, what do you feel like, Bella?" He doesn't notice the way she is looking at him. His soft stare is directed straight at me. I can see the smile in his eyes. My stomach flops and I recognise the feeling. I like that he is looking at me. I like that he is not noticing the good looking waitress who is eye fucking him.

_Stupid. Pathetic. Wrong. So so wrong._

"Wine?" I ask, shrugging my shoulders.

"Good choice." He answers through his smile. "Can we get a bottle of Merlot? Are your house wines still the same?" He looks at her this time.

She smiles. "Yip," she pops the 'p', "But I'll bring you a few to taste first and then you can decide. It's always good to explore your options." She lifts an eyebrow as she says it and her implications are pretty obvious.

I am floored by her lack of courtesy. I know Edward and I are just _friends_, but really? This chick doesn't know that.

He doesn't even flinch.

_Maybe it's not that obvious?_

"Nah, that's alright. You can just bring a bottle of the house wine." He looks at me for confirmation and I give him a small smile.

"When you find a good thing, there is no need for options." He doesn't look away as he says it and once again my stomach flops.

_What are you doing? _

"Sure," she says. Her voice is curt now and there is a part of me that feels pretty smug. A part of me that feels as though I just made a small victory.

Edward leans forward and grabs the menus from the edge of the table where the waitress left them for us. He hands me one before opening his up.

I look at mine, scanning the options. I'm not really hungry. My body is used to being neglected.

After a few moments Edward puts his menu back down and I follow suit.

He watches me. His gaze is intense. I can see the questions swimming in the depths of his eyes.

"Thanks for coming with me," he says.

I smile.

"It's what friends do."

He smiles back.

It is silent and the anxious knot sitting in my stomach tightens. I look down at my hands in front of me and fidget with the ends of my sleeves. They are frayed.

I can see he wants to ask. I want to let him.

I can't.

"Can I ask you something?"

_Oh God._

The waitress returns at just the right moment.

She sets a wine glass in front of each of us, places the bottle on the table and reaches into the pouch in front of her apron for a corkscrew.

I watch her as if it is the most interesting thing in the world.

She uses the knife part to cut through the metal covering the cork. She shoves the piece she cuts off in her pocket and places the tip of the corkscrew on top of the bottle. She pushes down as she turns and screws into the cork until it is deep enough. The other side of the contraption reaches the lip of the bottle and acts as the support as she pops the cork out.

You can see she has done it hundreds of times.

She puts the cork in her pouch before grabbing Edward's glass and pouring a little inside.

She puts it down in front of him again and he picks it up. Swirls it. Smells it. Takes a sip.

"Perfect," He smiles at her. "Thanks."

She smiles back and fills his glass, as well as mine.

I grab mine and take a sip. It's a good wine.

"What do you think?" He asks.

"It's good," I smile at him and take another sip.

"You're quite the wine connoisseur," I say.

He chuckles. "It's my mom," his smile is warm. "They have a wine cellar at home. She's quite the collector."

"Do your folks still stay in the area?" I ask. He hasn't mentioned them yet.

"Yeah," he takes another sip of his wine and I watch as he swallows. "They stay just outside of Forks, still in the house we grew up in."

I realize how little I know about him. It feels as though I have known him forever.

"You've met them." He says, his eyes are cautious, scared.

I try to think about where I could possibly have met them. I try to think of someone who resembles him.

"Really? Where?" The knot is tightening again. I can feel the tension and I can't understand it. This is a safe topic. His life is a safe topic.

I try to smile, but I am sure that it looks more like a grimace.

His face is tense.

"Dr. Carlisle Cullen is my dad."

The name registers and my heart beats faster. The knot is painfully tight. I take a deep breath.

_Dr Cullen. _I can see the soft blue eyes, the blond hair, the caring smile. I used to see him at least once every time I'd visit my dad, every holiday really.

_He knows. He knows who I am._

"Um, yeah," I stutter out. "I've met him a few times." I force a chuckle and grab my glass, taking a big swig, praying for the alcohol to calm me down, to loosen the knot, to help me get through this inevitable conversation.

I close my eyes and take a breath.

"We don't have to talk about anything you don't want to, Bella." His voice is soft. I feel the warmth of his hand on mine.

Instead of the fire, the electricity, there is a calming tingle – a radiating warmth.

_Safe._

I open my eyes and see him looking at me. Soft. Gentle. His eyes are filled with compassion.

"Did you know him?" I blurt out before I can even think of what I am saying.

His eyes crinkle a bit in confusion.

"My-my dad. Did you know him?"

His eyes widen in recognition. I can see the hint of fear again. I have no idea what he is afraid of but I know that I need to know this, before I say a single thing, I need to know if he knew him.

It's quiet for a while. I can see the conflict in his eyes.

"Are you guys ready to order?" The voice cuts through whatever trance we were in.

I pull my hand from his and grab my glass again. I drain it.

"Yeah, can I get a Tuscan steak?" He asks. There is no smile.

I look at the waitress, she looks amused by the unidentifiable tension in the air surrounding our table. I envision sharks circling. It's a funny image, but I can't laugh – the knot won't let me.

I grab the bottle and top up my glass.

A throat clears. "Bella?" Edward asks.

I look up at him and realize that they must be waiting for my order.

I am still not hungry.

"Can we get another bottle?" I ask as I hold up the bottle.

"Sure," she smirks.

"And to_ eat_?" Edward says. He is looking worried.

"I'm not really hungry."

"But just in case you feel like something."

"Um, okay." I think through what I saw of the menu. "Can I get the mushroom ravioli?" I have no idea why, but that is the dish I remember.

"No problem," the waitress says. She grabs our menus, smirk still in place, and walks away.

I sip my wine.

I'm waiting for an answer.

"Yes," Edward says eventually. "I knew the Chief."

"How well?" I ask. Once again there is no filter.

"Well enough."

My stomach drops. I'm quiet as I figure out what to do with this knowledge.

"I only just found out that he was your dad." He says and somehow that makes me feel better. "He was a good man."

"He was." I say. It's soft. I can feel my eyes blurring and I try to keep it in, to dry the tears with willpower alone.

"I'm sorry, Bella. We really don't have to talk about any of this."

I can't stop.

"I just miss him." A single tear falls and I wipe it away quickly.

I look up at him again and I can see that his eyes are shining slightly.

"Did you know me from before?" I ask softly.

He shakes his head. "No, we never met, though I did know _of_ you." There is a small smile on his lips.

I nod.

It makes sense. I am pretty sure I would have remembered meeting Edward.

"I met your mom." I say. It's the only one of the million thoughts swirling through my head that make any sense. "She was at the hospital once. She must have been visiting your dad. She was very sweet."

He smiles softly. "She still is."

I give him a small smile.

I want to ask him all about what he knew about my dad. I want to see someone else's picture of him, someone who got to see him all the time. I want to envision another past, one where I could have been here with Charlie.

Our food arrives.

"Can I get you anything else?" The waitress asks once she has placed our dishes in front of us and has opened the second bottle of wine.

"No, we're good for now." Edward answers and I nod.

She walks away again. I finish my wine and refill the glass.

Edward grabs his knife and fork.

I grab mine.

I take a small bite.

My stomach grumbles.

I drink more wine.

"Hmmm... it's just like I remember. So good." Edward says through the food in his mouth.

I take another sip.

Another bite.

More wine.

Alcohol does wonders for tension.

"How did you know him?" I eventually ask. The words just fall out my mouth.

He swallows. He is watching me.

There is no time. There is no tension. It's like everything stands still as I wait for his answer.

I see the hesitance in him. It's not the fear from earlier. This is not for me.

He has secrets too. He has things he doesn't like to talk about and for some reason this realisation makes me feel even closer to him.

He grabs his glass and brings it to his mouth as he takes a sip.

I'm frozen as I watch him.

He puts it back down. He looks right at me. His eyes piercing through me. He holds my gaze ad whispers four words that I never would have expected.

"He saved my life."

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**A/N: Okay, so I know it has been super long since my last update.**

**I am so sorry – it has been a hectic few weeks. But I am hoping that I will be able to get back to updating at least once a week.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who has put my story on alert or who has reviewed – you are all awesome!**

**And a special thank you to my best buddy, **_**Stephie9101. **_**She is my biggest fan and pushes me to write, even when I am just not in the right head space! I love you, my friend!**

**As always, please let me know what you think... Reviewers get a Chapter 9 teaser :-)**


	10. Chapter 9

**As we all know, I am, unfortunately, no Stephenie Meyer – All Twilight Characters belong to her. Everything else belongs to me :-)**

**Polyvores can be found on my profile.

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**Chapter 9: EPOV**

_What day is it? And in what month?  
This clock never seemed so alive  
I can't keep up and I can't back down  
I've been losing so much time_

_'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do  
Nothing to lose  
And it's you and me and all other people  
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you_

_One of the things that I want to say just aren't coming out right  
I'm tripping on words  
You've got my head spinning  
I don't know where to go from here_

_'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do  
Nothing to prove  
And it's you and me and all other people  
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you_

_There's something about you now  
I can't quite figure out  
Everything she does is beautiful  
Everything she does is right_

_'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do  
Nothing to lose  
And it's you and me and all other people  
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you  
and me and all other people with nothing to do  
Nothing to prove  
And it's you and me and all other people  
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you_

_What day is it?  
And in what month?  
This clock never seemed so alive_

_~ You and Me, _Lifehouse

.

"He saved me." I let the words roll of my tongue. My nerves are bunched together and completely on edge. I have no idea how she will take this.

Her face is frozen. Her features small. Almost frightened.

"Wh-what?" she stutters.

"I was about 9 at the time." I don't want to get into the details yet. I don't want her to know exactly what happened, why her situation is so real to me. "There was a... situation with my mom and dad and I, uh, got shot in the process. The Chief was the one who found me." I hesitate as I say it. It doesn't feel right rolling off my tongue. I can count on one hand how many times I have spoken about this with anyone.

She is quiet but her features slowly rearrange themselves. Her eyes softening, compassion swimming in the warm depths of the chocolate orbs that captivate me so entirely.

"I'm so sorry, Edward. I-I can't even imagine." Her voice is so soft.

Even after all these years, reliving that night gives me chills. The tell tale tightening of my chest is a sign that talking about it still has the ability to make me anxious. Especially when the reason I have been reliving it all over again is sitting right across from me.

Her arm stretches toward me, over the plates of food in front of us, as she reaches for my hand.

Warmth.

The feeling is so hard to describe. The tingles creating a calming sensation that spreads up my arm and makes its way into my chest, easing the feeling of anxiety.

"It was a long time ago." I say. I don't want her to see the weakness there. I want her to see me as a strength, as someone that can help her; someone who will be there for her.

She squeezes gently before pulling her hand back and grabbing her glass.

She takes a big sip.

When she looks back at me I can see what I missed in her face before.

She knows – I can see the little bells ringing in her eyes. She must have read about it in the papers or maybe even heard about it through town gossip or her dad. It was the biggest story in Forks for years.

I can see the realization there. She is connecting me to her father.

It is silent for a while as we watch each other. I am lost in the moment. Inexplicably drawn into her eyes, her world, her pain, her compassion. I feel as though I am falling – and fast.

"He spoke about you." Her words break the silence.

The words are unexpected and I can feel my eyes widen slightly.

"You mean he told you about me," I say as I wonder what all he would have said. The idea of her knowing the details is both a relief and scary as hell.

I swallow the lump that is forming in my throat. _How did we get into this conversation again?_ _This should be about her. I should be helping her._

"No. He never really told me the whole story. He just spoke about you, told me that you were a great kid, that the Cullen's were great people and that – that you amazed him. Inspired him. He said you were so strong and that you showed him what human resilience was all about;. He was... proud."

She hesitates on the last word and I can only imagine that it is because of how my face must look. I can feel my eyes stinging; my chest burning. I blink rapidly to try and stop the burn and clench my fists in an attempt to hold myself together.

The words are so unexpected and so... real. They resonate within me and stir something that I have kept hidden deep.

I clear my throat. The lump is thicker now. I ignore it all.

"He was an amazing man." I say and the words don't even cover it.

She smiles softly, her eyes are watery and I hate that it's because of me, because of this conversation. I grab the hand that she has placed on the table and rub the back of it in small circles with my thumb.

"Yes, he was." Her voice is raw with emotion and just as I open my mouth, about to ask her about what happened, I see the change. Her eyes close off. The tension is coming off her in waves. It's the same as it was in the car earlier and I know that I can't ask, that she doesn't want to talk about it.

She looks down at her plate. She pulls her hand away, grabs the fork and begins to move her food around.

"This is pretty good." She looks back up at me and gives me one of those smiles. The ones I hate. The one that she gave me when I first opened my mouth and let her know that she wasn't fooling me.

"Yeah, it is." I say as I follow after her and cut off a piece of my now cold steak. Disappointment runs through me and I wonder why I let this conversation happen in the first place.

It's quiet for a while as we continue to eat. Well, as I continue to eat. It's obvious to me that Bella is just moving the food around her plate. I try and think of what I can say to get her back.

The sound of her fork on the plate stops and I look up at her.

"I'm sorry," she says. Her eyes are full of remorse.

I give her a small smile. "Don't be. Like I said, we don't have to talk about anything you don't want to talk about."

"After that," she clears her throat. "After what you just told me, you deserve more than having me just shut you out, so I am sorry about that. You are right. I-I don't want to... I can't... talk about it right now, or ever, but you still don't deserve the cold shoulder."

I gave her a small smile to reassure her, as well as to hide my disappointment. I don't exactly expect her to just start telling me her life story but I can still hope sometimes.

"It's okay, Bella. Really. Let's just change the subject. Enough of the heavy shit." I let my smile grow and she smiles gently back.

xxxxxx

.

A few bottles of wine later, I take a look around me and realise that we are the only table left in the restaurant. Bella follows my eyes and chuckles.

"Looks like we're getting the death stare," she starts. "Well I am at least."

"What do you mean?" I ask as I motion toward the waitress for the check by lifting my hand and pretending to scribble something in the air.

"Well I think you could probably be the worst customer in the world and she'd still bat her eyelashes at you and beg for you to take her home." She is smirking as she says this, knowing that I am in no way interested.

"I doubt that. I made myself pretty clear earlier when she, again, offered to give me some 'wine options'." I use air quotations around the words because it was so obvious that she wasn't talking about wine.

"Like I said, you could probably do anything you want and she'll still be dazzled."

"Dazzled?" I ask, laughingly. Bella's smirk falters as a light red colour rises in her cheeks.

_Beautiful._

"Um.. yeah... you... um... dazzle people?" She says it like it's a question. Her words and the look in her eyes makes my stomach do weird things.

I clear my throat.

"I really doubt that." I say, smiling and ignoring the feeling completely.

_Friends._

She smiles back at me as the waitress comes around and drops the check next to me, smiling seductively, or what I can imagine she thinks is seductively.

"Thanks," I mumble as I grab the check. Bella is obviously right.

I look up at her and she is smirking at me.

"I would offer to pay but, I kinda left everything at home." She starts, her voice sounding apologetic, even through the smirking.

"I would have fought the notion in any case." I say, smiling back at her.

I open the check and I look at the slip. I notice a phone number scribbled down just below the total, and a simple 'call me' in a typically female script. I sigh.

"I told you so," Bella says s she leans over to look at the check.

I shut it as I pull out some cash from my wallet to pay.

"It seems some people just can't be deterred."

The waitress returns to pick up the check. She opens it up.

"Oh, your slip," she says coyly as she tries to hand it back to me.

I am exasperated by her persistence, especially considering I am here with another women and have ignored everyone of her come-ons.

"No, thanks." I say as I push her hand back while getting up from the table. "You can keep the change too."

I can't help the snippy tone.

I look at Bella as she gets up, shaking my head while the waitress walks away looking disappointed. She is trying to hold her laughter in but can't seem to get a hold on it and as our eyes meet, she bursts.

"It's not that funny," I say, even though I am chuckling along with her as we make our way out to the car.

"Yeah, it really is," she says through her giggles.

We get to the car and I open the passenger door for her. She quirks her eyebrow but I ignore it, waiting as she sits down. I close the door and hurry over to the driver's side. The temperature has dropped substantially since we arrived several hours ago, and I can't wait to get in and turn up the heat.

I get in and shut the door. Bella has taken off her sneakers and she curls her feet up on the seat with her. I hurry to put the key in the ignition, starting the car and turning the heat to full blast.

It takes a moment for the heat to take effect as I pull out of the parking and onto the road.

xxxxxx

.

We don't talk for a while. The only sound is that of the CD we had been playing on the drive to Port Angeles.

I look over at her. She is fast asleep.

She is slumped sideways in the chair, her whole body curled in on itself. She is facing me with her hand on her arms.

Small.

Fragile.

Beautiful.

Everything about her screams for me to keep her safe, to protect her.

My heart clenches.

Friends.

_We are friends._

I keep telling myself that as I turn down the music. I listen to her soft breathes as I drive the rest of the way back to Forks, replaying the night over and over in my head.

The conversation flowed easily and despite the fact that we didn't talk about anything substantial, I feel like I know so much more about her. I feel closer to her somehow, like I have known her forever.

I slow down to a halt as I pull into Bella's driveway. I am reluctant to wake her, to end the evening, and to leave her here alone. A big part of me wants to just take her home with me, but living with Emmett and Rose makes that impossible.

_Yeah, like having my own place would make a difference._

I watch her sleep for just a little while longer, holding onto this moment, to knowing that she feels this comfortable with me. She feels safe enough to close her eyes and be at her most vulnerable.

I listen to a few more of her deep breaths before I slowly touch her arm, revelling in the feeling.

I shake her slightly, "Bella."

"Hmmm," comes the unintelligible response. I chuckle a little despite myself.

"Bella, um, you're home." I continue to shake her arm gently, in a way that can almost be taken as stroking.

"What?" She asks as she slowly starts to move from the position she has been in since we left Port Angeles. I watch, enraptured, as her eye brows knit before she stifles a yawn and stretches out her arms.

"This may sound crazy," her voice is still soft with sleep. "But that was the best sleep I have had in weeks."

"You're right, that is crazy." I chuckle as she smiles at me - her tired eyes still captivating me in ways that I can't explain.

"Thank you." She says, her voice small.

It was my pleasure." I say as she bends down to pick up her shoes and open the door.

She looks back at me before stepping out of the car. "I'll... um... see you around?" Her voice is sad I can almost feel her pulling back. The girl I spent the evening talking and laughing with disappearing back into her shell, her hiding place.

"Wanna go for some coffee tomorrow?" I blurt out, scared to let her go. Afraid that I'll wake up tomorrow and this would have all been a dream of sorts.

Her lips turn up into a smile. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Great. I'll pick you up around one-ish?" I ask, knowing that Garret should be in around that time.

"Okay," she says simply, as she gets out of the car. "Good night, Edward."

She slams the door shut and hurries over to her front door. I watch her, making sure she gets in safely. The car feels emptier without her presence.

I put it in reverse and pull out onto the road, taking one last look at her house and seeing the lights flicker on in what I know is the kitchen.

As I drive home, all I can think about is everything I learned about her tonight. She didn't talk about anything 'personal' exactly, but I did learn a lot.

She's smart and witty, and fun. The girl I saw tonight, was the girl I remember from the first time I saw her. She was excited and passionate. Her smile radiant and beautiful. I loved every minute of it.

_So much more than I should have._

I can no longer keep telling myself that this is all about helping her. That it's all about redeeming myself or trying to recreate my childhood in an attempt to make up for not having been able to save my mom.

Because it is so much more than that.

I want Bella in my life.

Because I don't think I can go back to a time where I can watch her from far and wonder what she is all about.

I want to know her. I want to be a part of her life. I want to...

_No. _

I will not let myself go there. This isn't about that. This isn't about how beautiful she is, or how much she makes my entire being bubble with a passion, with an intensity, that I hardly understand. It's about her, not about how soft her skin is, or how that tingle that I get when I touch her makes me feel. It isn't about the cascading silk, or the chocolate orbs. It's not about her creamy skin or her radiant smile.

It's about being her friend.

It's about what is right.

I need to stop letting myself get caught up in the moment. Tonight was not a date. It was a way to get her out – to let us talk, to help her feel safe with me so I can get her out of this situation . Out of the situation that makes me so livid I could kill the fucker.

The idea of someone's hands on her, someone hurting her, makes my mind turn into that of a feral animal.

I growl in frustration.

_Calm down. Things are getting better. The bastard's not here right now. He isn't going to hurt her._

I take deep breaths as I pull into the pub. The parking is pretty full and I know that it is a busy night.

I walk through the doors and up to the bar. Garrett's face sags in relief as he spots me in the crowd.

"Hey man." I shout as I make my way through the side door, into the kitchen and around to join Garrett behind the bar.

"As much as I want to ask what you are doing here, I won't, because God am I happy to see you." He says as he grabs my outstretched hand and shakes it in greeting.

I chuckle. "Your face says it all man."

xxxxxx

.

We get to work and man is it a busy night. Everyone in the town of Forks seems to be packed into the small space.

By the time I get home, I feel like a dead man walking. The day was exhausting in so many ways.

I shower and get into bed, having no time to even think about anything but sleep.

xxxxxx

.

It's Sunday and I wake up feeling good.

I get dressed and make my way into the kitchen where I can hear Rose and Emmett chatting animatedly.

"Morning," I say as I grab a mug and fill it with some coffee.

I hear the normal responses and take a seat at the table.

Rose is sitting there reading a magazine – probably one of those 'What to expect, when you are expecting' types – and Emmett is stuffing his face with eggs and toast and bacon and...

I get up and grab a bowl, filling it with some cereal, ignoring how inadequate my breakfast is in comparison.

"So what did you get up to yesterday, Bro?" Emmett starts.

I look at him and I can see the smirk. He know something. I glare at him because he knows exactly what he is doing.

"Nothing," I say in a hard tone. "It was just like every other Saturday." I punctuate my reply with another stern glare.

Emmett grins. "Oh, well that's weird. I could have sworn I saw you in Port Angeles with a little brown haired hottie."

I groan.

Rose looks up and scrutinises my facial expression. I can feel her eyes deciding whether this is truth of just Emmett being an idiot. I try to make my face work for the latter, but I fail.

"Who is she?" Rose asks.

"She's no one." I almost choke on the words. I couldn't be further from the truth. "Just a girl I know." I say, going for an air of indifference. I don't want them near her. Not yet. Not when things are so fragile. Not until I know her better, until I've gained at least a bit of her trust.

"No one my ass." Rose says and Emmett bursts into a full blown smirk.

I roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of it. "What are you, like 5?" I say in annoyance. "Seriously. I don't want to talk about this."

"Aww, come one little, Bro. I can't help it. You're just so cute when you get angry." He reaches over and pinches my cheek.

I slap his arm away and grab his wrist as I get up and punch him in the arm. Hard.

"Now you're just asking for trouble," Emmett says as he gets up and tackles me, pushing me out of the kitchen and onto the couch.

He's heavy. Like really, really heavy. I try to push him off me but fail and end up resorting to using my body weight to push us both off the couch.

We land on the floor with a thud and I can't help but chuckle as Emmett grunts. He punches me back in the arm and I resist the urge to rub the spot. He's a strong motherfucker.

We roll around on the floor for a while, wrestling each other like we did in high school.

"Okay, okay." I say once Emmett gets me in one of his infamous headlocks. "I give up!"

"You know what to say, Bro."

I groan, and he tightens his hold.

"Fine, Emmett is king." I say through clenched teeth. Even in adulthood, I hate saying it. I hate giving up, but it's inevitable when you wrestle with a giant.

He releases me as soon as the words are out, and rolls over onto his back. He's chuckling but I can hear in his voice that it wasn't an easy victory.

We lie there for a while. I can hear that Rose is no longer in the kitchen by the silence.

"So what's up?" Emmett finally says. "Why you being so weird about this chick?"

I know better than to think he will drop it that easily.

"Why are you so goddamn interested?" I ask as I get up off the floor. I look down at him. He is lying with his arms folded beneath his head, smirking at me.

"Bro, come on, you haven't been on a date in, like, forever. I was starting to worry, but now, I find out that you are just being all mysterious and shit. Of course I am going to be curious."

"It's not a big deal." I start as I turn away and walk back into the dining room. I hear him get up and follow me as I sit down at the table and grab my bowl. I shovel a spoonful of the now soggy cereal in my mouth.

"Okay, Bro. Whatever you say." He pats my back condescendingly before taking his seat. His smirk is still in place. I glare at him.

"Okay, fine. She's a girl I met at the pub. This was only the first time we went out and we're just friends."

"Friends," He says, his eyes scrunching up. "Yeah, right."

"She's got a boyfriend, Em." I try not to let my face portray how I feel about said boyfriend.

"And?" He asks.

"And nothing. We're just friends. Just because you think that girls and guys can't be friends without one, or both, of them wanting to take it to the next level, doesn't make it true."

"Maybe not. But I know you, Bro, and she is definitely more than 'just' a friend." He says as he gets up and walks out of the kitchen.

I sigh and have another mouthful, before taking my bowl to the sink and rinsing it. I place it in the dishwasher and ignore the uneasy feeling in my gut. The one that is telling me that Emmett is right. That I am getting myself into a situation that I am in no way prepared for.

I think of her face, her smile, the way her cheeks tinge when she gets flustered, and all I can think is how screwed I truly am.

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**A/N: Sorry for the wait! The next one will definitely come a lot quicker! **

**I want to say thanks to everyone who is reading and also to FelicityBall, my awesome friend who rec'd my story on her site (the best Twilight site in South Africa) - www(dot)twilightseries(dot)co(dot)za**

**Please leave me a review and let me know what you think :-)**


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